White Stones in the Moonlight
by roku kyu
Summary: After a vicious attack on Tasuki by a possessed Tamahome, the Suzaku seishi and miko struggle to find a way to pull together again. Warning: Strong adult themes. Epilogue. Once, as my heart remembers...
1. Prologue: Prelude to Evil

**WHITE STONES IN THE MOONLIGHT**, by roku kyu

The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

I've chosen the night of the Star-Gazing Festival for the beginning of this story, since that is the one time that all seven warriors were assembled, including the real Chiriko, yet precedes the tragedy which strikes Tamahome's family, and the departure of the seishi on their mission to seek the Shinzaho. Spoilers for the entire series.

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**PROLOGUE: Prelude to Evil ** (Tasuki, Tamahome)

Night had thrown its black mantle over the Konan Empire, cloaking the Imperial City and the palace of its emperor in velvet darkness. The stars blazed brilliantly in the heavens, their light undimmed by the thin crescent of the new moon, as once again they asserted themselves as the sole jewels in the firmament now that the fireworks had ended. The celebrations of the Star-Gazing Festival were concluded and the denizens of the Imperial City had returned to their homes, snuffing out their lamps as they wearily took to their beds after a surfeit of festival food and entertainment.

The Imperial Palace stood dark and quiet, its corridors lit intermittently by the faint glow of oil lamps. A figure strode swiftly through the darkness, the air displaced by his rapid passage causing the flames in the lamps to dance and gutter, flaring up briefly to reflect in his brilliant red hair.

Suzaku no Shichiseishi Tasuki was angry, his strides lengthening as he scowled over the events of the past hour. The fact that he was angry would not have shocked any of his friends or acquaintances; they were accustomed to his quick temper. However, his normal fits of irritation were usually dispelled by a few well-chosen curse words and perhaps a brief bout of noisy violence. The anger he felt now was deeper, darker, evidenced by his silence as he moved swiftly toward his destination.

Miaka had been crying again tonight, her tears etching themselves like acid on his heart. Once again, her pain had been caused by Tamahome, although she'd refused to tell Tasuki exactly what his brother warrior had done to her. Tasuki and Nuriko had taken Miaka to the festival to lift her spirits, but she had run off suddenly in the midst of the festivities. When they returned to the palace, they found her alone, brooding after an encounter with Tamahome. Only after Nuriko had retired did Miaka turn to Tasuki, tears in her eyes, and beg him to lend her his strength. As she wept in his arms, Tasuki felt the spark of anger at her suffering flare up into a blazing conflagration in his heart, and he silently cursed Tamahome for causing her so much pain.

Tasuki's heart ached, and he dimly wondered why Miaka's pain always provoked an answering pain in his own chest. He only knew that she made him _feel _things; that she broke down his barriers and touched his heart, as she had done from the very start. He didn't know why, but in a short time, she had come to mean more to him than any woman he had ever known. He also knew that to her, he was just another one of her surrogate brothers--someone to have fun with or someone to lean on once in a while, but nothing more. Her heart belonged to Tamahome, and it had been that way ever since he had met her.

So why did Miaka and Tamahome inflict so much pain on one another? Tasuki, inexperienced in the ways of love, blamed Tamahome for carelessness in the way he treated Miaka. He was convinced that if he were in Tamahome's place, he would never cause Miaka any pain. Since that would never happen, Tasuki decided to act in his designated role as big brother and knock some sense into Tamahome. He hoped to set the two of them straight, as much out of fondness for his brother seishi as for his surrogate sister.

Reaching Tamahome's quarters, Tasuki knocked sharply on the door, hoping to wake him. When there was no reply, he opened the door and looked in. The room was empty. Tasuki walked over to the window, peering out to see if Tamahome was walking around anywhere in sight. Footsteps sounded behind him, and he whirled around.

"What the hell are you doing in my room?" The voice was resentful, angry.

Tasuki stared at Tamahome's face, seeing the grey eyes red-rimmed and filled with pain. He felt his heart drop; it had never occurred to him that Tamahome might be suffering as badly as Miaka. His anger dissipating, Tasuki held out his hand to Tamahome.

"I came here to talk to you about Miaka," he replied hesitantly.

"I saw you tonight." Tamahome's voice was low, accusing. "I saw the two of you together...and now I know why she rejected my proposal!"

Tasuki's eyes widened as he comprehended the truth of the trouble between his friends--and at his recognition of what Tamahome thought he had witnessed between him and Miaka.

"No, you've got it wrong! We weren't... we didn't... " Tasuki broke off as he realized that his stuttered denials were worsening the situation. He stopped and looked Tamahome directly in the eyes. "We gotta talk, Tama," he finished simply.

Tamahome's eyes suddenly seemed to glow with a strange greenish-yellow light. Tasuki stepped back, feeling an inexplicable chill. '_What the hell?_' he thought. '_I've never been afraid of Tama before, not even when he was under the kodoku spell.'_

Tamahome turned and walked back to the door, looking out into the empty corridor. The hallway suddenly glowed with the eerie greenish-yellow light emanating from his eyes and oni symbol. Faint beams of the same light seemed to shine down from the ceiling to the floor, blocking the door to the room. The flames in the hallway lamps guttered...then went out.

"So let's talk."

Tamahome's voice had changed, turning mocking, seductive. He reached out and closed the door, shutting himself and Tasuki in the room. The sound of the bolt echoed in the darkness, then the palace stood silent once more.

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**Author's Note: **This fiction is based on a one-shot work by Jades, entitled "Show me the meaning of love…" Her story detailed an attack on Tasuki by Tamahome. She kindly granted me permission to use her core idea to write a multi-chapter fiction pursuing the possible effects of such a traumatic event on the Suzaku Shichiseishi and their miko. I altered and added to her original version of the attack as recounted in my first two chapters to form a version that I'm a little more comfortable with, but I think I've retained most of the disturbing and provocative elements of her story.

**Warning!** The next two chapters deal in a realistic manner with the traumatic aftermath and subsequent re-telling of Tamahome's attack on Tasuki, including descriptions of graphic violence and non-consensual sex at times. In other words, the events described are harsh, although I've tried to avoid being too graphic. There is no romanticizing of the events, and I cannot stress enough that this part of the story is NOT for the young or sensitive reader. This is a true "M" rating - please take the age restriction seriously. If for some reason, you would like to read the rest of the story (which is nowhere near as harsh), Chapter 3 (Purification) is probably a good place to start. You can pick up on the storyline here without reliving the events described in Chapters 1 and 2.


	2. Chapter 1 Aftermath

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

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**CHAPTER 1: Aftermath **(Tasuki, Tamahome, Chichiri, Mitsukake)

Pain. Such a short simple word for the blazing agony that awakened him. Pain everywhere, within and without his body, consuming him until he had to fight to remember who he was, where he was. His back, throbbing in time to his heartbeats...his legs bruised and weak...something deep inside him feeling broken, bleeding… and his arms, numb at first but now awakening to the screams of torn muscles. He tried to move but couldn't shift them.

_Why not?_

His eyes, lashes stuck together with the salt of dried tears, forced themselves open to focus blearily on his wrists bound together above his head. That brought him fully awake, his body in a complete panic.

_Oh dear Suzaku, no… Gods, __no…it __wasn't just a nightmare, it was all true…Gods, it can't be, please, __PLEASE!_

He caught his breath on a sob, suddenly realizing that he wasn't alone. The rising sun sent a few beams into the room, illuminating the bed on which he lay. His tormentor was cuddled up next to him, sleeping on his chest with one arm draped possessively over his waist. That was it. He couldn't take anymore.

_The oni was going to awaken and then, in the bright light of day, his torture was going to begin all over again, and again, and it was __never going to end!_

His mind fled from this reality, leaving behind only a broken child who whimpered softly in grief and despair, knowing that the monster was coming, and that he wasn't able to hide…

Tamahome awoke slowly, roused by the sound of soft weeping. He didn't want to wake, feeling warm and comfortable where he lay. His body felt strangely satisfied, replete, tempting him back into luxurious sleep--but the weeping wouldn't stop. It sounded like the tears of a child who had woken from a nightmare and couldn't be comforted.

Remembering his responsibilities as a big brother, he forced his eyes open, murmuring, "Chuei? Yuiren?"

But the sight that met his eyes sent his world careening into a full panic, as he skittered backwards in horror from the warm body on which he had been sleeping.

Tasuki lay on his bed, wrists bound above his head, his naked body bruised and broken as he turned his head away, crying harder now that he knew that Tamahome was awake. Tamahome realized with a sick feeling that he was equally as naked, although nowhere near as bruised.

"Tasuki, what the hell happened here? What are you doing in my room? What in all the _hells?_"

Images began to flash briefly before Tamahome's eyes: the fight over Miaka; Tasuki falling; a red veil of rage falling over his vision; Tasuki tied to the bed, his lips swollen and bruised from kisses… NO! He wasn't dealing with this now; he _couldn't_ deal with this now! He ran to the door. He had to get away from here, had to get help! At that moment, Tasuki groaned in pain as he tried to twist away from his bonds.

'I can't leave him like this. No matter what, I can't just run out on him.'

Shaking, frightened, Tamahome walked toward Tasuki, who cried out in fear at his approach.

"No, shhhh, I'm just going to untie you. I'm just trying to help…"

Tasuki's eyes widened, and he cried, "Not again! Gods, please…not _again_!"

Tamahome felt nausea rising in him at the utter terror in his friend's amber eyes, an expression he thought he would never see on Tasuki's face. He reached out, trying to ignore his friend's cries of panic, and untied the shirt that held his wrists captive. As soon as his arms fell to his sides, Tasuki curled away from Tamahome into a fetal position. Tamahome's eyes widened at the huge dark purple bruise that spread across the redhead's lower back. He then noticed the blood trickling sluggishly down the backs of his thighs, matching the blood on the bedsheets.

_Oh gods, he's broken on the inside, oh __gods, oh Suzaku!_

He noticed that he also had blood on his body…and then he lost it. Running into the adjoining bath chamber, Tamahome vomited into the basin and huddled there, shaking and gasping. Once he had regained control of himself, he frantically cleaned off the blood, noticing dimly that he didn't appear to be wounded in any way.

Finally, he forced himself back into the nightmare of his bedchamber. Tasuki hadn't moved; he still lay there curled up and crying. Tamahome searched desperately for their clothes and shoved Tasuki's clothes at him.

"Tasuki, you have to get dressed! Please," he pleaded.

"No, no, no…" wept Tasuki, and didn't move.

Frantically, Tamahome dressed himself, then threw a blanket over the huddled form.

"I'm going to get help - don't go anywhere, okay?" He mentally cursed himself for his stupid remark.

Bursting out of his room, he ran straight out of the palace, needing to get away, to run away… Running, running, until his breath came in harsh gasps, he reached the lake which bordered the palace and noticed a figure sitting quietly in the dawn light, fishing pole in the water. Thank Suzaku! It was the one person he wanted to find above all others.

"Chichiri!" he gasped.

The monk looked up startled, maskless since he thought he was alone. Tamahome's relief was so profound that he burst into tears. He tried to choke out words, but his sobs made him unintelligible.

Chichiri jumped up and laid a comforting hand on Tamahome's shoulder. "Easy, easy now, just breathe--and tell me what's wrong," he soothed.

"It's Tasuki!" choked Tamahome. "He's hurt bad, real bad...and he's in my room." At that, he lost it again.

Chichiri jgrabbed his arm and started running back toward the palace.

They quickly reached Tamahome's room and pulled open the door, only to find the room apparently empty. The broken furniture and the blood on the bed, however, bore mute testimony to the violence that had occurred in the night.

"Where did he go?" cried Tamahome.

Chichiri held up his hand, signaling for silence as he closed his eyes and sent out a gentle search for Tasuki's ki. He flinched and jumped back as if struck in the face by what he had found.

"Tasuki?" he murmured gently, moving toward the damaged wardrobe which held Tamahome's clothes. Tamahome finally noticed the blanketed bundle which huddled against the wood as if trying to hide. "It's me, Chichiri. Don't be afraid."

He gently pulled at the blanket, revealing a shock of fiery hair, followed by two amber eyes widened in panic. Both of Tasuki's hands were clamped over his mouth, repressing any sounds for fear of discovery. He stared blankly at Chichiri for a moment, then caught sight of Tamahome hovering behind him. At that, he squeezed his eyes shut as tears leaked out and little sobs escaped from behind the barrier of his hands.

"Tamahome, please get Mitsukake here right away!" Chichiri grabbed Tamahome's arm as he prepared to bolt out of the room once more. "Try to act normal and do not let _any_ of the guards or servants find out about this; I don't know whom we can trust. For that matter, don't let Miaka or any of the other seishi find out yet, either."

Tamahome nodded and took a deep breath, glad to escape the hellhole that his room had become. Forcing himself to walk instead of run, he moved quickly towards Mitsukake's quarters, his mind shying away from Tasuki's obvious fear of him. _I'll deal with that later,_ he promised himself.

Shortly thereafter, Tamahome returned with Mitsukake to his chamber. The tall doctor was silent on their way there, carrying his medical supplies as unobtrusively as possible. Chichiri was still kneeling by the blanketed Tasuki, talking to him soothingly but getting little response from him. Tamahome stayed outside the door, unwilling to see Tasuki's reaction to him yet again.

Mitsukake knelt before the wounded seishi, who tried to hide in his blanket at the sight of him. "Tasuki, I'm going to take a look at you now. Please don't be afraid; I'll try not to hurt you."

"No, no, no..." Tasuki moaned.

"It's all right, Tasuki, I'm going to stay right here with you," Chichiri promised.

Tamahome tilted his head back against the wall and blinked rapidly in an effort to contain his tears.

After a while, Mitsukake came out and beckoned Tamahome back into the room. He entered reluctantly, edging around the door and trying to stay out of Tasuki's line of sight. He needn't have bothered; Tasuki seemed calmer, his eyes closed, wrapped in a clean blanket and leaning back against Chichiri's shoulder.

"What's wrong with him? Is he going to be all right?" he whispered.

"Physically, yes," Mitsukake replied softly. "He has a slight concussion, a cracked rib, strained muscles in both shoulders and arms, a hairline fracture of one vertebrae in his lower back along with some compressed disks, but thank Suzaku, no damage to the spinal cord. There are some internal injuries, but these should all heal, given time."

"Given time? Why don't you heal him right now?"

Mitsukake merely shook his head and placed a finger to his lips.

"Tasuki," Chichiri murmured gently. "We need to know what happened from both you and Tamahome."

Tasuki frowned without opening his eyes and tried to shrink away, but Chichiri held his shoulders gently, not letting him escape.

"Just answer a few questions. Was it Seiryuu seishi who did this to you?"

Tasuki shook his head, keeping his eyes shut.

"Kutou assassins?"

Again, a negative response.

"Then who?"

Tasuki slowly opened his eyes, looking directly at Tamahome for the first time that day. He raised his hand, pointing at his fellow seishi.

"Him," he said simply. "The oni."

Tamahome reeled back in shock, praying that it wasn't true, and yet knowing, _knowing_ that it was the absolute truth. Mitsukake stared at him in shock and horror, while Chichiri closed his one eye in pain, having guessed the truth from the moment that Tamahome had found him.

Mitsukake shook his head in disbelief. "Tamahome? _Tamahome_ did this to you?"

Tamahome stood there, offering no defense, miserable and wishing that he could die right then.

"No, not Tamahome." The voice was strong and clear in its denial. They stared down at Tasuki, who sounded sane for the first time that day. "I said it was the _oni_, not Tamahome. The oni attacked me, Tama tried to get me free but the oni took him over again. Tama wouldn't do this to me. He's my fellow warrior--and friend. He wouldn't..." Tasuki's voice dropped, "…rape me." The last two words were uttered very softly, but everyone still heard him.

"_Rape?_" choked Tamahome. "He was..."

"Yes!" said Mitsukake angrily, still not understanding Tasuki's defense of Tamahome. "Very brutally, too, I might add."

"Oh, _gods!_" Tamahome recalled the blood on Tasuki's thighs and on him. He ran from the room and was sick for the second time that morning. He gagged and retched, starting to weep uncontrollably. A few disjointed memories of the attack started to come back to him, causing him to double over in pain and nausea.

Chichiri looked helplessly at Mitsukake. The sounds of Tamahome's sickness and weeping had started Tasuki trembling again.

"Tasuki, listen to me! You have to explain--was Tamahome possessed?"

"Yes!" Tasuki gazed up at Chichiri, desperately hanging onto his sanity in order to give them the information they needed. "The oni sign, here..." he touched his forehead. "Not red from Suzaku. Not blue from Seiryuu, either. Yellow-green, and his eyes... And he was so strong--too strong." Tasuki gasped, his teeth starting to chatter. "We need more help," he said simply, "before he destroys everything." Tasuki closed his eyes and retreated into his semi-catatonic state once again.

Mitsukake and Chichiri locked glances, panic beginning to show in each of their faces.

"We're going to have to bring in the rest of the seishi," Chichiri said. "But we still have to keep this hidden as long as possible from the palace staff. If this gets out, Kutou will attack us immediately in our weakened state. Get Nuriko and Hotohori...and we won't be able to keep this from Chiriko or Miaka, either, I'm afraid."

"But what's going on?" burst out Mitsukake. "Who's responsible for all this?"

"I have an idea." Chichiri's eye narrowed, and for the first time, the monk appeared as the truly dangerous warrior that he was. "And I intend to find out the truth."

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**Author's note:** Chuei, Yuiren: The names of Tamahome's younger brother and baby sister


	3. Chapter 2 Reprise

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Musical Selection: "Sona" by Secret Garden, on their CD 'Dawn of a New Century' copyright 1999 Polygram Publishing, Norway.

Author's Note: Much of my writing is inspired by music; in other words, I hear the music, then start seeing a "movie" of whatever story is in my mind. This song is somewhat lyrical for this scene, but it rises in urgency and intensity just as the scene does. Picture the song starting at scene 2, Tamahome's conversion.

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**CHAPTER 2: REPRISE** (Tamahome, Nuriko, Miaka)

The rays of the setting sun slanted in through the window, casting shadows of the bars across the face of the man sitting in the cell.

"Thirty-seven," he said softly.

His companion on the opposite side of the cell door looked up from the scroll he had been reading. "Thirty-seven?"

"Yes." Tamahome lifted his chin from his knees. "Thirty-seven bars in front of this cell. Don't you think that's odd, Nuriko? No pun intended. I mean, why would they build a cell with thirty-seven bars? You can't multiply or divide anything into thirty-seven; it must've been hell for the builders to keep thirty-seven bars evenly spaced."

"I think you're bored, Tama-chan. His Highness already said, and I agree with him, that there's no reason for you to be locked away down here like a common criminal. I could guard you just as well under house arrest in more comfy and _interesting_ quarters. We have no idea when or if this 'oni' will reappear, but you insisted on being confined down here, with no thought for poor Nuri-chan..."

Tamahome glared at Nuriko. "You're certain that you can restrain me if I get taken over again? I don't know that I'd be so cocky if I were you, Nuriko. Tasuki's no weakling, but when I awoke this morning, I had him trussed up like a sheep for the slaughter and beaten to within an inch of his life!"

His eyes turned dark and desolate at his mention of Tasuki's name. He ducked his head into his knees again, unwilling to meet Nuriko's questioning gaze.

"Listen, Tama-chan, I don't pretend to know what's going on; in fact, I'm just about as confused as I've ever been in my life, and that's saying a lot, coming from me. Listen, you and Tasuki brawl all the time--and I know that this is different because it turned serious--but from what Chichiri told me, Tasuki himself said that you weren't responsible. He blamed it on some kind of weird demon-thing that possessed you. Now I'm not taking this as lightly as you think. I've got my bracelets, plus I also have ways of summoning help if I need it, but like I said, I don't understand this need in you to confine yourself in the deepest, darkest cells of the palace prison. And I especially don't get why I'm not allowed to see Tasuki! Chichiri and Mitsukake are standing watch over his chambers like a pair of palace lion-dogs guarding the Imperial treasure. I mean, even after you messed him up in Kutou, we were allowed to visit him... Sorry, Tama!" Nuriko said as Tamahome flinched at the memory.

Nuriko opened the cell door, crouching down next to Tamahome and placing a hand on his hunched shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Tama-chan," he apologized again. "All I wanted to say is that if you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen."

Tamahome lifted his face from his drawn-up knees, startling Nuriko with the bleakness of his expression.

"Thanks. But right now, talking about it isn't going to help anything, not to mention I've got big blank spots in my memory anyway." He lowered his eyes and whispered to himself, "But not enough blank spots... I wish I didn't remember any of it at all."

At that moment, they were both startled by the sound of running footsteps.

Miaka dashed into the room, stopping short at the cell, breathing hard. "Tamahome!"

With surprising speed, Tamahome leaped across Nuriko and slammed the cell door shut, locking Miaka outside. "Miaka!" he shouted angrily. "You shouldn't be here! Didn't they tell you that it was dangerous for you to be near me?"

"I know, but I couldn't..!" she stopped short, uncertain of what to say to him since she rejected his marriage proposal the other night.

Should she say that she couldn't just leave him there? Would he believe her? She didn't have a coherent reason for running to find him, except for the violent turmoil churning in her heart ever since Mitsukake told her of the disastrous battle between the two seishi. They wouldn't let her see Tasuki, wouldn't tell her the details of what happened, wouldn't tell her where Tamahome had disappeared to! She was frantic with worry about the two combatants and had resorted to eavesdropping to find out the whereabouts of Tamahome and Nuriko.

Nuriko picked himself up off the cell floor, dusted off his clothes, and settled himself in a corner of the cell, resigning himself to witnessing yet another Miaka-Tamahome sentimental love scene.

However, Miaka was not her usual giddy self, the strange tension in the palace supressing her normal vivacity. Her emerald eyes were somber, troubled, touched with the darkness that had been there since the betrayal and death of Amiboshi.

"You're right, Tamahome. Mitsukake did warn me. But what I don't understand is _why._ I know that you injured Tasuki while possessed by something. While I understand the need for secrecy, I don't know why I'm not allowed to see either you or Tasuki. And why are Chichiri and Mitsukake giving off these feelings of suppressed panic?"

Tamahome just shook his head and sat down again, once again pulling his knees up and hiding his face.

"Nuriko?" Miaka asked uncertainly.

"I don't know any more than you do, Miaka," Nuriko confessed. "But it _is _weird. Chichiri gave me Tasuki's tessen and told me to hide it, so I put it in the...uh...um, I put it in a place where Tasuki will never find it. But I don't know why, either."

Miaka glanced at Tamahome, but he was still refusing to participate in the discussion. She turned back to Nuriko.

"Here's something even weirder. I passed by Tasuki's chambers and overheard Mitsukake and Chichiri talking." Nuriko raised an eyebrow. "All right, so I was eavesdropping! Anyway, they were deciding on shifts so that one of them would always be with Tasuki--and Mitsukake said that he wished that he could heal Tasuki's injuries, but they couldn't allow him to regain his seishi powers yet. I don't get it! Why should Tasuki's flame-throwing abilities get in the way of Mitsukake healing him?"

Tamahome suddenly jerked his head up, comprehension and grief appearing simultaneously in his grey eyes. "Tasuki's seishi power has nothing to do with the tessen. You forget--Suzaku's gift to him is speed! That's why his seishi symbol is 'wing.' They can't heal him, because then he'll be able to get away from them--and that's why they're hiding the tessen as a back-up precaution!" Tamahome choked on a sob. "It's a suicide watch!"

At that, he lost the last of his composure and began to weep bitterly, his body racked with violent sobs.

"Suicide?" Shocked, Nuriko and Miaka stared at each other through the bars.

"That's crazy, Tamahome," Miaka stammered. "Tasuki would never--"

Nuriko broke in. "No way. Not that loud-mouthed, cocky bandit. What the hell could've happened to make you think that, Tama?"

Tamahome's shoulders continued to shake, as the last rays of the setting sun withdrew their reddish light from the cell, leaving it in shadow. Suddenly, the hairs on Nuriko's arms and scalp began to prickle, and he took a step back from his fellow seishi. Tamahome's sobs had changed, turning to laughter, mocking and cruel.

"So you want to know what happened?" he sneered, lifting his face from his knees.

Nuriko and Miaka stared in shock at the yellowish-green light emanating from his oni symbol and from his eyes, bathing the cell in an evil, eerie glow.

"The oni!" Nuriko breathed, then powered up his bracelets to full gauntlets.

"Don't worry, little cross-dresser. I'm not interested in you, nor in her, either. I'm only here to give you the information you so desperately seek," he mocked. "So you want the complete story of last night? _Hungry_ for it? The question is... can you stomach it?" Tamahome laughed again. "Well, let's begin at the beginning. It all started with her." He pointed at Miaka, whose eyes widened. "Our virtuous little priestess. You didn't know that Tamahome was watching you last night, that he saw you cuddling up to your fiery seishi, embracing him, leaning on him. Oh, the jealousy and rage consuming him! It was delectable!

"But it gets better! Tasuki, that chivalrous fool, came to Tamahome's chambers to confront him about you. Gods, it was like having a fabulous meal delivered to my door! It was so easy to take over Tamahome in his pain and rage. And then the fun began! Let me tell you, it took some skill on my part to beat that bandit boy so as to cripple him, but not to the point of unconsciousness. Where would be the fun in that? I wanted him awake and aware of what was going to happen to him." The creature inside Tamahome sighed in sudden pleasure.

Miaka's hands fisted at her sides. Nuriko glanced at her and blessed Tamahome's quickness in locking Miaka out of the cell, otherwise by now she would have launched herself at the oni in one of her disastrous "Miaka attacks." Nuriko himself was having trouble controlling his anger, but he told himself to keep cool, to keep alert. The oni had not made any aggressive moves so far, but that was no reason for Nuriko to lower his defenses.

Meanwhile, the oni continued to spin his dark tale, ensnaring them in the horror of the previous night.

"Tasuki was disoriented by my attacks, so I was able to pin him beneath me in the bed. Who would think that a mouth that spews such obscenities could taste so sweet? He was like honey on my tongue. And his body! I ripped his clothes so that I could feel the satin of his skin. Gods, how he struggled and cursed!" Tamahome laughed excitedly, then abruptly stopped. "But he nearly got away. That accursed speed of his! He was at the door before I felt him slip my grasp. It was a good thing I had other weapons." Tamahome's voice dropped, becoming low and threatening. "I warned him that if he ran, I would be in the priestess' chambers in a flash, and I would take her before he could even summon help. _Then_ I would visit the newest seishi, that child, and teach _him _a thing or two about pain!" The oni laughed again, triumphant. "That fool turned around and tried to attack me again! He really believed me! I couldn't be less interested in you, priestess, nor in that child; you're too easy to break, no challenge at all. No, it was _him_ I wanted all along."

Tears stood in Nuriko's eyes and ran down Miaka's face. But they couldn't stop listening, couldn't stop reliving the horror that Tasuki had endured. The oni continued to hold them in his dark spell.

"Of course, I had him down on the bed again in no time. As a particularly nice touch, I bound his wrists above his head with his own shirt. Now he was mine to enjoy at my leisure. You're probably wondering why no one heard his struggles or cries, or why your monk didn't pick up on the disturbance in his ki. Well, I have a few powers that include shields and barriers--but that's all you need to know about that."

Tamahome's breath quickened as the oni returned to his story. "Oh, I'll never forget the feel of him, his sobs and curses sweet music in my ears, his skin like the finest silk under my fingers. Let me tell you another thing: nature has been generous to our Tasuki, and he was as much man as anyone could wish for! The joy of caressing him, stroking him, feeling him respond against his will--"

He broke off as Nuriko moved forward to strike him.

"_Teme!_" hissed Nuriko uncharacteristically, sounding eerily like Tasuki in that moment. "You _bastard_, you _dared!_"

"Now, now, do you really want to injure your Tama-chan?" the oni sneered. "Remember, whatever you do to me, you do to Tamahome. Sit down like a good little boy or girl or whatever it is you think you are, or you'll never learn how Tasuki got away from me the second time."

Nuriko snarled and backed away but remained standing. Miaka stood frozen outside the cell, trembling, her hands covering her mouth.

"You know," the oni continued conversationally, "Tasuki is a lot smarter than he appears. In fact, I'm convinced that he often deliberately plays dumb, just so you'll underestimate him. Can you believe that he actually almost escaped from me again? And you wouldn't believe how. He started calling out 'Sou Kishuku' over and over. _'Sou Kishuku, Suzaku no seishi,' 'Kishuku, my brother warrior.'_ Up until then, I thought that I'd fooled him into believing I was Tamahome, but I guess he saw through it and tried to reach Tamahome inside me. It actually worked! I felt myself being shoved down, pushed aside, forced into becoming a mere observer. I was in such a rage! Tamahome took himself back just as I was on the verge of fulfilling my desires!"

Tamahome's mouth quirked up. "But if I hadn't been so angry and frustrated, I would have found the situation hilarious. Imagine Tamahome awakening to find himself on top of Tasuki, his hands all over his 'brother warrior'!" The oni laughed in pure amusement. "Gods, I wish that I could have seen the look on his face! But Tasuki didn't care; he just begged Tamahome to untie him. That fool Tamahome jumped to help him..."

The oni's voice dropped to a sensuous purr. "...and that's when he made one fatal mistake. As he was untying Tasuki, Tamahome looked down into that bruised, beautiful face, saw the tears sparkling on the dark lashes, felt the warmth and hardness of the body beneath him, and just for a moment, for the tiniest, briefest breath of time… he felt _desire_ for Tasuki. That was all I needed to take him over again! I let Tasuki have another five seconds of thinking he was going to escape--and then I retied him tighter than before! Oh, how he wrenched at his bonds; I thought he was going to dislocate both shoulders. And that look of betrayal--it was _intoxicating!_ I couldn't hold back any longer!"

Miaka was sobbing openly, the torture of her fifth seishi as vivid to her as if she had stood in the room that night. She never thought that her heart could ache so much. She realized that all her previous woes, over Yui, over Tamahome, were like child's play compared to this open agony of her warrior's... no, her _friend's_ suffering. It felt as if her heart would shatter with grief.

Nuriko's face was a mask of rage as he shoved Tamahome back against the wall of the cell. "Miaka!" he shouted, "Get _OUT!_ Get _out NOW!_"

Miaka stumbled back, but her shaking legs refused to support her.

"Don't _GO!"_ shouted the oni. "I'm just getting to the_ good _part! Don't you want to hear about his screams as I took him, the blood as I ripped his innocence away? The salt of his tears mixed with the sweetness of his lips; gods, he tasted of _heaven!"_

Miaka kept backing away, her hands covering her ears in vain.

"The feel of him, the hardness of him in my hands--and gods, the despair in his eyes as he climaxed in my embrace! He wanted _me_ as much as I wanted _him!_ He _WANTED_ it, I tell you!"

"Shut up, _shut up_, _SHUT UP!"_ screamed Nuriko as he finally lost control and lunged at the oni, pushing his gauntleted forearm across Tamahome's throat to silence him.

Pulling a slip of paper with prayers scrawled across it from his robe, Nuriko slapped it over the oni sign on Tamahome's forehead, causing him to shriek in pain, then stiffen, the yellow-green glow fading from his eyes.

In the sudden twilight darkness of the cell, there was only the sound of panting along with choked sobs. Tamahome's grey eyes widened in panic as he focused on Nuriko's enraged face inches from his own while trying to draw breath through his constricted throat. His eyes moved to discern Miaka, standing in the gloom, her face stricken and the innocence in her eyes gone forever.

"Miaka?" he gasped.

She turned from him and fled the room.

"Nuriko," he choked.

Nuriko released him at last, tears falling from his eyes.

Tamahome began to cough and weep. "Nuriko, please--kill me now... _please!"_

Nuriko shook his head, fighting to control his own grief.

"Then give me something, anything, so I can do it myself! Maybe then, he'll get better; maybe then, he'll stop being afraid!"

Tamahome broke off as Nuriko took him in a fierce embrace.

"Shhh, hush, Tama-chan, don't speak such nonsense. We'll find a way out of this, I promise you. If you promise not to give up, I promise to find a way that we can win," he wept brokenly.

"But will Tasuki be able to find a way out of this nightmare? _Will_ he?"

"I don't know, I don't know...but Suzaku can't abandon us now. We have to believe that we'll win through somehow." Nuriko's voice wavered yet managed to ring with conviction at the same time.

The two seishi clung tightly to each other, their friendship and love their only refuge in the gathering gloom.

****

****

Glossary of Japanese terms:

Oni - Japanese term for "ogre" and the sign of Suzaku on Tamahome's forehead. In Japan, "oni" usually depicts a particular type of monster with three eyes that eats humans. The evil being possessing Tamahome is more like a mononoke - evil spirit or demon - but I continue to call it "the oni" since it manifests through Tamahome's seishi power

Sou Kishuku -Tamahome's family name, as opposed to his seishi name

Teme – rude and insulting form of address, meaning "You bastard" or "You son-of-a-bitch"

Author's notes: (2-21-02) Okayyy…this is going to be very long, so you can just skip it if you want. But I want to give credit to Jades for the elements in this fic that were originally her idea. As I stated from the beginning, this story was inspired by Jades' "Show me the meaning…" in which Tamahome attacks Tasuki while under the influence of his oni sign. Jades has since altered and added to her story so that the fic entitled "Show me the meaning of love" no longer has certain elements that were present in the original. So let me list off what ideas were originally hers, so that I don't mistakenly get credit for them – but I will say that although the plot points are hers, I have rewritten them in my own words. So here goes:

1) Miaka confiding in Tasuki and crying on his shoulder, the two of them being observed at a distance by Tamahome.

2) Tasuki goes to Tamahome's room to confront him, but finds the room empty.

3) Tamahome returns in a jealous rage and is infuriated to find Tasuki in his room. The oni power that Taiitsukun gives him overwhelms him and he attacks Tasuki.

4) During the attack, he ties Tasuki to the bed with his own shirt.

5) After the attack, Tamahome falls asleep on Tasuki's chest – story ends.

From here onward, I have altered the account of the attack from Jades' version, adding two escape attempts by Tasuki and turning the oni into an actual demon who possesses Tamahome, absolving Tamahome of responsibility in the attack. The original story was disturbing and at times brutal but also segued into a rape fantasy, where both attacker and victim enjoyed the experience at the end. This is a certain genre that is popular in some circles and differs from actual rape just as Fushigi Yuugi is a fantasy series that does not depict actual ancient China (no werewolves or magic ki powers in ancient China so far as I know).

I have chosen to take the situation and portray it realistically, as an actual rape and not a fantasy rape. This does not mean I am making judgments against rape fantasies – I'm only saying that fantasy is not the approach I am taking in this story. My story differs substantially from fantasy in that I don't believe that actual rape is _ever_ enjoyable for the victim. It is a crime of violence, not sex, the purpose of which is to degrade and humiliate the victim, not to "make love" to them. So why does Tasuki respond to the oni's manipulation? Some basic human biology: men have two "sexual response" centers: one in the brain, like women, and one at the base of the spine. Even though unwilling and even horrified in his mind, a man will respond to direct stimulation because the nerves bypass the brain, forming a "short circuit" running from their sex organ directly to the response center in their spine. Whew--more info than you wanted, right? Sorry, but I wanted to make the point that even if a man responds during a rape, it is AGAINST HIS WILL and does not count as "enjoyment" of the experience. It will, however, contribute greatly to his sense of shame, which you will see in the next chapter. Sorry for the trauma; believe it or not, my hands were shaking as I wrote this chapter.

It was also important for me to absolve Tamahome of responsibility in this crime, though he does fail Tasuki in the second escape attempt--once again, basic male physical response working against him there. My interpretation of his character is a little more "canon"; in other words, I feel that he is not the sort of person who would enjoy raping anyone, let alone one of his best friends.


	4. Chapter 3 Purification

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them. Except I do make a claim to this storyline…hah!

Musical Selection: "Prayer" by Secret Garden from the CD 'Dawn of a New Century', copyright 1999 PolyGram Publishing, Norway

*******

**CHAPTER 3: PURIFICATION** (Chichiri, Miaka, Tasuki)

Chichiri leaned against the outer wall of Tasuki's bath chamber, knowing that he should be elsewhere. Hotohori was waiting patiently for a full account of the devastating events of the last 24 hours, and Mitsukake struggled to gently enlighten Chiriko while sparing him from information that the 13-year-old did not need to know. Miaka was Suzaku-only-knew where, while Nuriko both stood guard over and tried to comfort Tamahome, who was a possible danger to them and a definite danger to himself. Above all, Chichiri needed to set off on his mission to confront the one he suspected of setting these tragic events in motion. But before he could deal with any of this, there was still Tasuki--no, there was only Tasuki. Tasuki would remain his principal concern until the young warrior regained some mental stability.

Soft footsteps made Chichiri look up, unsure of who would intrude into Tasuki's quarters at this time.

"Miaka," he breathed in surprise.

Gone was the bubbly, cheerful 15-year-old of yesterday. The priestess of Suzaku stood before him, her face shadowed with grief and pain but her bearing straight and strong.

"How is he, Chichiri?"

Chichiri shook his head. "He woke just over an hour ago. He seemed a little better; at least, he was lucid and not panicking--but he refused all food or drink. He said that he only wanted to get clean, but he's been in the bath chamber for an hour now." Chichiri's voice was at its lower pitch, the cheerful 'no da's conspicuously absent. "I think that his injured arms aren't working properly, but when I try to help him, he starts crying and shouting for me to leave him alone. I wish I could send in a servant, but I don't know whom I can trust." Chichiri averted his eye from Miaka. "I know that you're probably wondering why I don't allow Mitsukake to just heal him, but..." his voice faltered and cracked.

"I know why you can't do that at this time, Chichiri." Miaka's voice was sad but strong. "I know everything. I know what Tamahome, or the oni, or whatever you want to call him, did to Tasuki, and I know why. It was all because of me, as usual, just like in Kutou..." tears rose in her eyes, "...and that's why you have to let me help him."

Chichiri looked at her, startled. "I told Mitsukake to tell you only that Tasuki had fought Tamahome while he was possessed, and that Tasuki was badly hurt. I didn't want you to have to know--I don't know why Mitsukake told you--"

"He didn't," Miaka interrupted. "I found out for myself when I went to see Tamahome. He, or rather the oni, was talking about it..._laughing_ about it!" Miaka choked. Chichiri jumped up at the mention of the oni. "Don't worry. Nuriko has the situation under control."

"But I have to be there! I need to confront the oni." Chichiri shot an agonized glance towards the bath chamber.

"Go on," urged Miaka. "I'll stay here with him. I'll be here for him." Chichiri wavered, unsure. "Don't worry, Chichiri. I am his priestess, after all."

Chichiri nodded and ran off, cursing the fact that he was needed everywhere at once. Miaka looked down thoughtfully at the mask that she had lifted from Chichiri's kesa.

"Let's hope this thing will work on me."

****

Twilight glimmered through the windows set high in the walls of the bath chamber. A large sunken bath dominated one side of the chamber, a few last wisps of steam rising from the surface of the rapidly cooling water. Light from two small oil lamps cast a golden glow on the figure huddled in the center of the room, head bowed and shoulders slumped.

Tasuki sat on the low bathing stool with a towel draped across his thighs, staring at the cake of soap in his hands. Gingerly, he rubbed the soap onto a small cloth and attempted to lift the cloth to his shoulders. Just then, his shoulder muscles cramped, causing him to squeeze the soap so tightly that it shot out of his hand. Attempting to catch the soap, he dropped his washcloth and overturned the basin of water sitting next to him.

"_Kuso!_" he cursed, then put his face into his hands. "Big baby!" he snarled at himself. "Crying over a stupid piece of soap. I am so goddamn sick of crying already!"

At that moment, the door slid open, admitting a female dressed in the short white robe of the emperor's bath attendants. Her hair was covered with a white kerchief, and her bowed head hid her face.

"What are you doing here? Get _OUT!_" shouted Tasuki.

She fell to the floor in a terrified bow, as he put his hand up to his eyes to dash away his tears...and promptly got soap in his eyes.

"Ow, ow, goddamnit!" he cursed, struggling to clear his vision.

He caught a blurred glimpse of her curiously blank, plain face as she rose quickly from the floor. A soft cloth dampened with cool water was placed over his burning eyes, soothing them immediately.

"Just keep it there awhile," the girl said in a hoarse whisper. "Please let me assist you, my lord."

Briefly, Tasuki wondered what was wrong with her voice, but all curiosity was driven out of his mind as his arms cramped painfully again, and he dropped the cloth that covered his eyes.

The girl replaced the cloth gently. "Just tilt your head back, and it will stay in place," she whispered.

"I guess I might need a little help," Tasuki conceded grudgingly, embarrassed but secretly grateful. In any case, this was what these girls did for a living, so the sight of a naked man was no big deal to them--and it wasn't as if he were a real man anymore, anyway. He flinched at the sudden sharp stab of grief, as tears trickled from the outside corners of his eyes. He was glad to feel her pouring warm water over his hair, hiding his tears.

She gently washed his hair, touching his scalp lightly, avoiding the area of his concussion when he winced at her touch. Rinsing out the soap, she marveled at how the water appeared to douse the flames of his fiery hair, darkening the color. She soaped the washcloth, gently moving it over his shoulders and continuing to his arms and chest. She hesitated at his firm belly, then reaching with a trembling hand for the cloth which covered his hips.

He stopped her with his own hand, handing her the cloth which had covered his eyes and taking the washcloth from her grasp. "I think I can take care of myself from this point... but I think I might need some help with my... my back."

She ducked her head in acquiescence and moved behind him, using another cloth to clean him while trying to avoid putting pressure on the horrible bruise on his lower back.

"Could you please... please stand?" she whispered.

He struggled to get to his feet, supported by arms bracing his elbows. She bent to continue her ministrations--and stopped at the sight of the dried blood on his thighs. Her hands began to tremble, and she clasped them together to hide them from him. Forcing herself to move smoothly, she soaped his legs, then poured water over him, her eyes tearing as she watched the reddish foam slide down his legs.

At last she bowed before him, keeping her eyes on her hands which were clasped in her lap.

"May I assist you into the bath, my lord?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Tasuki closed his eyes, suddenly weary. "Don't call me that. I'm not your lord or any lord at all. I'm just a common bandit...or at least I was."

His voice dropped. "Now I'm nobody--now I'm nothing."

"You're not nothing! You're _everything!_" she choked.

He looked at her in surprise, seeing the tears drop onto her hands.

"Why are you crying?" He crouched before her and lifted her chin with one finger. "Do I know you?" He felt the unnatural texture of her skin, and recognized the mask. "Chichiri! Goddamnit, are you playing tricks on me?" He ripped the mask from her face. Tearful emerald eyes stared into angry amber eyes, which widened in shock.

_ "Miaka?"_

****

Tasuki stumbled back, the shock on his face changing to a look of betrayal, followed by shame and then despair.

"Why? How could you_--why_ did you--?" he broke off, fighting tears.

Miaka tore off the kerchief which concealed her hair, letting her auburn locks tumble freely down her shoulders. She raised her arms to him, trying to draw him back to her.

"I couldn't leave you to suffer here alone! Please don't look at me like that, Tasuki. I can't bear it!"

He glared at her, suddenly furious. "You can't bear it! _You_ can't fucking bear it! Let me tell you something, Miaka, about what_ I_ can't bear! YOU! _You _finding out about this, looking at me with all that fucking _pity,_ fighting your contempt! Touching me in all my filth, rising nobly above your disgust! Seeing me like this..." he broke down sobbing "...ugly…weak... " his voice rose in a wail, "..._unclean!_"

"How can you think that?" she cried, trying to embrace him.

He pushed back from her violently, wrapping his arms around himself. Unable to touch him, she tried to reach him with words.

"You can _never_ disgust me! You've given everything for me, suffered all of this for my sake! I know what happened: I know that I brought this on you by leaning on your strength last night. I know that you had a chance to save yourself, but he threatened me, me and Chiriko, and you sacrificed yourself for us! Like you _always _sacrifice yourself for me!" Miaka tried to control herself, lowering her voice. "You have no reason to think of yourself as unclean...but if you feel defiled, isn't it right that I, as your priestess, should purify you?"

"Purify me..." Tasuki's voice was dull, his hair hiding his eyes as he knelt before her. "Have you any idea, _Priestess,_ of what it would take to _purify_ me? Do you think a little soap and water is enough to do the trick?" He looked up at Miaka at last, the utter desolation on his face striking through to her heart. "Did he tell you anything else about last night? Did he tell you that it wasn't all pain and torture for me?"

She closed her eyes, unable to face the screaming pain in his face any longer.

"Oh, so he did tell you," Tasuki breathed softly. "So you know that he touched me...and I _responded_...and he brought me to _pleasure!_" His voice thickened with self-contempt. "So what do you think of my sacrifice _now_, Priestess?"

Tasuki's voice began to rise in hysteria. "Water won't purify me, Miaka. But _fire_ might! So give me back my tessen and let me _purify_ MYSELF!"

"Stop it, _STOP IT!_" she screamed, then leaped at him, taking him by surprise. They both crashed into the sunken bath, then surfaced, spluttering.

The shock of the water snapped Tasuki out of his hysteria, but Miaka continued in her frenzy, grabbing him from behind and pulling him to her, hugging him around the shoulders fiercely.

"I won't let you do it, I won't let you even _think_ it!" she sobbed. "You don't understand--none of this is your fault, you didn't want _any_ of this!" Her voice softened. "But your body is beautiful, Tasuki, and it was made for love...and the fact that he took advantage of that, and manipulated you and_ used_ you...doesn't mean that you wanted it! You _didn't_ want it, you fought him with everything you had, aren't I right, Tasuki?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I fought him." Tears began to run down his face. "I didn't want it, I didn't," he sobbed.

"I know that, I know _you!_" she wept with him.

With those words, the knowledge flared up in her mind, illuminating all. She _did_ know him--she finally knew him. Holding him in her arms, his wet skin slick beneath her fingers, feeling his body shake with his sobs, remembering the blood that he had shed for her time and time again, she finally saw him as_ real_. Not just a surrogate brother, not just another playing piece that she needed to complete her set in this great celestial game, not just another casual friend to joke with--after all the weeks they had spent together since their first meeting, she finally saw him for the first time as the real person he was.

The oni had stripped her of her innocence with his cruel story; he had stripped her of her childish belief that she and her seishi couldn't _really_ be hurt or killed in this fantasy world. But deep down, she'd still believed that things couldn't be _too_ bad, hadn't she? She had run in a panicked dash from the prison to Tasuki's chambers, needing to see that Tasuki was still alive--needing _him _to comfort _her_. It wasn't until she was confronted with the shocking sight of Tasuki huddled naked and weeping, his body bruised and broken and his soul filled with anguish and self-loathing, that she finally left her innocence behind for good. She let go of her childish belief that the world ran according to her needs.

Miaka shuddered as she remembered her stupid conviction that Yui could just set aside her grief and pain over her own rape and go back to trusting Miaka as if nothing had ever happened to her. She finally realized that her childish need for Yui to be her best friend again had blinded her to the depth of suffering and rage in her childhood friend, and had unwittingly exposed herself and her warriors to extreme danger.

Miaka shivered at the memory and felt Tasuki shiver in response, his sobs catching in his throat. Fighting for self-control so that she could calm him, Miaka pulled Tasuki closer.

"It's alright, it's alright now," she soothed, rubbing his shoulders, trying to relieve the tension in his aching muscles.

She felt the thin lines of adolescence which still held sway over his not-quite-mature body. His shoulders had not fully broadened to a man's width yet, nor had his chest; he still had some growing to do. Seeing him like this, stripped of his heavily padded coat and his bandit swagger, she realized that Tasuki was younger than she had thought. She had assumed that he was close to twenty years old, with his position as leader of the Mt. Reikaku bandits and his obvious experience in that role. But she now realized that he was probably no older than Tamahome, not that much older than herself. She had leaned on him and expected him to protect her, subconsciously regarding him as some sort of celestial knight--while all the time, he was probably as unsure of his place in this universe as she was.

Miaka thought back on all the moments she had shared with Tasuki since their first meeting: how he'd always been the first to leap to her defense, to accompany her into danger, to defend not only her physical safety but also her feelings.

She remembered that terrible battle in Kutou against the kodoku-possessed Tamahome, that moment when she regained consciousness only to see the two locked in mortal combat, Tasuki slowly gaining the upper hand by using his tessen. "_No more!"_ she had screamed. "Tasuki! Please don't kill Tamahome! If he dies, I don't know what I'll do! _Don't DO IT!" _

She remembered stricken amber eyes turning to her, those eyes widening in disbelief at her unknowing command, only to be answered by Tamahome's roundhouse kick to his chest. She remembered the resolve in Tasuki's face as he shoved the tessen back in its holster and turned unarmed to face Tamahome's nanchakus. Tasuki had yielded to her feelings, although he had earlier refused to yield to Chichiri's pleas to spare their brother warrior. So those nanchukus had struck again and again, breaking bones, driving him to his knees. Yet Tasuki had risen to his feet, still defying and taunting Tamahome. Only in his last desperate glance back at her and Chichiri, when he pleaded with them to get away while he "bought them time"… only then did she see that he was ready to die for her. He never bothered to reach for the tessen as he prepared himself to die at Tamahome's hands to spare her love.

Miaka shuddered again as she realized what she had asked of Tasuki in that unthinking moment. She had stripped him of his one weapon and forced him to battle unarmed against an opponent who had no qualms about using _his_ weapons. She had in effect commanded him, and Chichiri by association, to die for her…because in her childish thoughts, only Tamahome was _real_ to her. Only Tamahome mattered.

Tears fell from Miaka's eyes as she realized that even if given another chance, she still couldn't allow Tasuki to kill Tamahome--but she might have at least cared enough to see how Tasuki was doing after the battle. No, she was so wrapped up in her own despair over losing Tamahome that she nearly killed herself, also endangering Hotohori as he risked his life to save hers. Had she been just a little more mature, she might've bothered to look at the seishi who surrounded her, loved and protected her, and realized that her actions really _did_ affect their lives. She should've been mature enough to understand Chichiri's warnings about the consequences of her actions, to realize that her actions affected people who were as real as Yui or Tamahome.

Tasuki was growing quieter in her arms, a few tears still trickling from his eyes. Filled with an overwhelming tenderness, she gently wiped the tears from his face. Had he wept like this, alone in his room, after the battle in Kutou? Had he wept with pain and humiliation, his injuries unable to be healed while Mitsukake spent two days healing herself, then Tamahome? She didn't know; she had never bothered to find out, still being too caught up in her world of Tamahome, Tamahome, and nothing but Tamahome. Did Tasuki, famous for his combative bluntness, rebuke her for what had happened to him, other than his one broken remark to Chichiri about hating girls because "this kind of thing always happens whenever I get mixed up with them"? He had always been quick to call her "baka" and give her a gentle knock on the head, but he'd never reproached her for his injuries. He had plenty to say to Tamahome on that subject, and plenty to brawl about--but he had never rebuked _her_.

Revelation after revelation flashed through her mind, her arms unconsciously tightening around Tasuki's body as he now drifted quietly against her, his head resting on her shoulder. All this time, he had fought for her, not out of a sense of duty--but out of love. He fought not only for the physical safety of the Priestess of Suzaku, but also for the feelings of Yuuki Miaka. He fought for her heart--and he was no more impervious to pain or death than she was. He fought for her because he loved her…and he had risked and lost everything for her.

Miaka suddenly felt something deep in her chest contract painfully, as the most shocking revelation of all blinded her, making her almost gasp aloud. Deep inside, she _had_ recognized his love…but had never acknowledged it. She was no longer that same little girl. She acknowledged his love now, and her heart sang out a reply. Before she knew it, she was breathing words of comfort, words of love, answering his love.

"My brave warrior, my flame-haired hero, you're safe now, you're home." She watched his eyes flutter closed as he floated gently against her. "My Gen-chan, my fiery fang-boy, I love you."

Tasuki had been drifting, suspended just this side of consciousness, feeling peace surround him as her arms wrapped around him, soothing him in her embrace. But at her words, his eyes flew open. Did he just hear what he _thought_ he heard? Or was he dreaming?

"Miaka?" Tasuki asked uncertainly.

She smiled down into his eyes. "Yes, the water's getting cold, we have to get out now." She stepped out of the water, her soaked robe clinging to her figure, and picked up a bath sheet, holding it out in such a way that he could step modestly into its folds without exposing himself. She then turned her back, removing her soaked garments and wrapping herself in another bathsheet.

Tasuki looked away, wrapping his towel securely around his waist. 'Yeah, it was just a dream,' he thought, disappointed, letting his shoulders slump again.

"Tasuki? Is something else wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Just drifted off for a minute in the bath. Dreamed that I heard somethin'."

"What did you dream?" Miaka asked, her eyes filling with tears. "Did you dream that I told you you're beautiful? Or that you were made for love? Or maybe...maybe you dreamed that I said...I love you."

Tasuki's eyes flew up to meet Miaka's tearful gaze. "Wh-wh-what?" he stammered. "Why?"

"Why I love you is easy. It's because you love me enough to go into Hell for my sake--how can I not love you in return? And it's not just because of what happened last night. Deep inside, I feel as if I've known this for a long time, I just couldn't admit it to myself." Miaka caught her breath as she suddenly remembered Tamahome. She suddenly realized the complications of her admission...but something inside her could not regret having spoken her heart. "What this means, where we go from here--I don't know any of that, and I can't make you any promises. I just wanted you to know..." she broke off, shaking her head.

Tasuki asked the question he dreaded. "And what about...Tamahome?"

Miaka's face creased in pain. "I still love him; in spite of everything, I still care about him and can't forget about him." She laughed bitterly. "Aren't I the most stupid girl you ever met? I tell you that I love you, then I tell you that I'm still in love with the man that attacked and nearly killed you. Believe me when I tell you that I didn't mean to cause you more pain." She glanced briefly at his amber eyes, dark with emotion, then looked quickly away again. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm still just an impulsive schoolgirl who blurts out things before thinking. Miaka no baka. I screwed up again, didn't I?"

"No," Tasuki replied slowly, thoughtfully. "No, I'm glad you told me--and I'm glad that you're honest with me about Tamahome. You need to understand something: it wasn't Tama who did this to me; it's some kind of monster or spirit that possessed him. Once we sort this out and kick some mononoke ass, he'll be back to his old self, and you'll be able to love him freely again. But I'll still be grateful for the way you made me feel for the short time that you loved me."

There was silence for a moment, then Miaka strode up to Tasuki and slapped him across the face. He staggered back, shocked.

"Tasuki no baka!" she shouted in his face. "How dare you think that you're just a temporary replacement for Tamahome! How _dare_ you think that that's all you mean to me?" Tears of rage began to fall from her eyes, but she continued to shout at him. "Don't you understand ANYTHING? I may not be able to promise you 'happily ever after,' but that doesn't mean that I'll ever stop loving you! I'm going to love you for the rest of my life whether we end up together or not! Anything could separate us at any time, _anything!_" The anger suddenly left her, and she began to sob with grief. "Don't you understand? You could have _died_ last night! You could have died for me, and I would never have gotten the chance to tell you how I felt about you! You could have _died_ without ever knowing how much I loved you! You could have left me forever--"

Tasuki had heard enough. He grabbed Miaka and pulled her to him, silencing her shouts by placing his mouth over hers. Partially because of the tenderness of his bruised lips and newly bruised jaw, he moved his lips very gently and softly against hers. Miaka's eyes fluttered closed, her entire body responding to the sensuality of his kiss. Gradually he opened his mouth against hers and tasted her lips with the tip of his tongue.

She opened for him and was soon overwhelmed with the sensations that rushed through her as his tongue gently stroked hers. She felt her knees turn to liquid and her body turn to fire--she'd never felt like this before! Yes, Tamahome's kisses were sweet and tenderly passionate, but they had never been this insistent, filled with so much raw _need_, entreating and demanding at the same time. Now Tasuki's need aroused an answering need in her. Passion ignited in her blood and she pushed back against him, eager to taste him, her body pressing up against his, her fingers weaving through his soft hair. 'They're right; he _does_ taste of honey,' she thought dreamily, fortunately not remembering who "they" were at that moment. With that thought, she felt control slip away from her.

Miaka tried desperately to hold onto her sanity, her mind, trying to remind herself of her love for Tamahome and obligations to Suzaku, as well as the morals her mother had pounded into her head. But Tasuki's arms around her, the feel of his body against hers, made her breathless, dizzy--as if she were spinning in a vortex of desire. She'd never felt this out-of-control before! Suddenly, she understood exactly what it was that Taiitsukun had warned her against. Taiitsukun had feared this loss of control in the Priestess, but neither of them had foreseen the unexpected direction the threat had come from. And now it was too late. She was lost, lost to him, lost in him--lost in the arousing, exhilarating unfamiliarity of him.

Their passion increased, burning hotter as they pressed against each other, pulling each other closer, their bodies separated only by the thin towels they wore. In spite of his injuries, Tasuki felt himself caught up in the inferno of desire that had ignited between them. He began to respond to the intoxicating feel of Miaka against him, her breasts pressed against his chest, the softness between her legs rubbing against his thigh.

Miaka answered him eagerly, responding to the siren's call of his body, her heart pounding in excitement at the feel of him and the power she held over him. She had never been in such intimate contact with a man before--and she nearly cried out in disappointment as he pulled back from her, embarrassed and confused. Suddenly aggressive, she grasped his hips, pulling him back into her.

"See?" she whispered. "I told you that you were made for love..."

She rose up on her toes, encouraging even closer contact between them, mindlessly seeking that final communion between their bodies.

Tasuki groaned in ecstasy as she pressed herself unashamedly against his hardness, and he couldn't help pushing his hips towards her, causing her to moan and sigh in pleasure. As she wrapped herself around him, yielding to him, he felt her love and honest passion for him pushing back his shadows, cleansing him of the dark poison of the oni's violation of his body and soul. He felt as if she were lifting him, redeeming him--

"Purify me..." he sighed into her ear, his words both a command and a prayer. He lost himself in her, feeling his breath begin to grow short as his heart raced. "_Purify_ me!"

Miaka trembled at his words, nearly exploding with desire. Unthinking, she placed her hands on the small of Tasuki's back and pulled him sharply towards her again.

Tasuki cried out at the sudden pain, stars shooting across his vision as he nearly fell to his knees in agony, bringing them down to earth again.

"Sorry, sorry!" she cried apologetically.

"No, thank the gods that happened, because I was just about ready to toss the future of Konan out the window," Tasuki sighed. "One more minute, and the Maiden of Suzaku would be a maiden no longer, and then where would we all be?"

"Well, you and I would be pretty happy, at least for the few weeks we would have before Seiryuu crushed us," Miaka teased.

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be very responsible of us, would it?"

"Since when did _you_ get such a sense of responsibility?"

"I don't know--but I can tell you that it fucking SUCKS!"

"Don't worry, Tasuki. I would have stopped us in time. I have wonderful self-control, you know," she lied boldly to him, her cheeks still flushed from the memory of her actions.

Tasuki wasn't buying it. "Oh, yeah? Well, if that's your version of self-control, heaven help me when you finally let loose--you'll probably kill me long before the enemy makes it to the gates. They'll find me dead in my bed with a blissful grin on my face."

"Mou, Tasuki!" Miaka pretended to be angry but was secretly overjoyed to hear Tasuki teasing again and to see that smart-aleck smirk on his face. "Let's go to bed."

"Hey! What about my sense of responsibility?"

"To _sleep,_ baka! I... I just don't want to be alone tonight."

Tasuki looked at Miaka keenly. "You mean that you don't want _me_ to be alone tonight, don't you?" Miaka lowered her eyes. "Hey," said Tasuki, suddenly serious, "it's okay with me if you stay. It's just that...there'll probably be nightmares. Maybe really bad ones."

"Hey, yourself," Miaka replied. "That's what I'm here for: to be here for you the way you're here for me."

"Somehow I like the sound of that. All right, let's go to bed...but no funny business, okay?"

"_Urusai,_ baka!"

*******

*******

**Glossary of Japanese terms:  
**

Kuso! -short for Shikuso, meaning Shit!

mononoke - evil spirit or ghost, also can mean demon

baka - stupid, or idiot, as in Miaka no baka -Stupid Miaka; or Tasuki no baka!- You idiot, Tasuki!

Urusai, baka! - Shut up, stupid!

**Author's notes:** Well, here's my interpretation of Miaka Yuuki: different, more mature than she was depicted at this point in the canon anime. I'm sorry if it seems that I'm bashing Miaka in her "recollections" (or having her bash herself!); I really don't mean to. But her actions in the infamous kodoku battle scene in the anime have always driven me, and quite a few other older FY fans, NUTS! I mean, she only cared about Tamahome and couldn't care less about what happened to Tasuki--nor realize that he was fighting for her life to begin with! This is also true of the earlier "rescue from Nakago" scene in the temple of Seiryuu, where she lets Chichiri take ki blast after ki blast from Nakago while she wastes time pleading with Yui, ignoring Chichiri's shouts for her to escape! But I don't choose to portray her as stupid--merely immature.

So this is the point in my fic where she deviates from the anime Miaka to become the White Stones Miaka. I have pushed her maturity forward in time to the Miaka at the end of the TV series or the OVAs, and I have used the rape of Tasuki as the catalyst for this transformation. This traumatic event in my fiction has forced her to see that the world consists of more than "Tamahome, Tamahome, and nothing but Tamahome." So feel free to let me know what you think! I take all comments and criticisms seriously! But that doesn't mean I'm going to change the story…Heeheehee.

Onward to a few other points - Notice anything about the "first kiss" scene? It was inspired by Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing: "Peace! I shall stop thy mouth!"

Lastly, I wanted to chat about Tasuki's OOC way of speaking a higher class of (English? Chinese? Japanese? Ah, the confusion of falling in love with an English translation of a Japanese anime about characters from Ancient China!) when he is under stress. I based it on the English dubbed FY (ducks objects thrown by the sub-only fans - Gee, tough crowd here today!) in which Tasuki normally speaks in a whiny, smart-alecky, sarcastic tone of voice, changing to a straight, serious tone under conditions of stress, e.g. the Nuriko scene. Much the same way that Chichiri loses the "ya know" (no da!) under pressure. Plus, it's damn near impossible to approximate the Kansai dialect on paper and in English, at least for my limited talents! So, Tasuki will continue to speak schizophrenically throughout this fic depending on who he's talking to, and what he's feeling at the time; I hope this isn't too confusing!

And, speaking of the Chinese/Japanese confusion here, you probably noticed that I gave Tasuki a Japanese bathroom (furo), where the person cleans himself thoroughly outside of the bath, rinsing off before going into the large bathtub for a hot water soak. I don't know if the Japanese acquired this custom from the Chinese, or if the Chinese have a totally different traditional bath...now I'm confused! Well, I'll just hide behind the fact that the Universe of the Four Gods is an alternate reality, anyway.

Ja ne!

Roku


	5. Chapter 4 Exorcism, Part 1: Alliance of

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Musical Selection: "Sanctuary" by Secret Garden, on their CD 'White Stones', copyright 1997 PolyGram Publishing, Norway.

*******

**CHAPTER 4: Exorcism, Part 1- Alliance of Hearts** (Chichiri, Chiriko, Nuriko)

In the twilight, the shrine of Suzaku stood engulfed in shadows, the darkness interrupted by thin beams of light shining through the iron grillwork of the oil lamps suspended in the gloom. The tiny beams illuminated very little, revealing a gleam of gold here, a swirl of incense there. The silence lay thick, filling the confines of the temple with an almost tangible weight, seeming to suppress light as well as sound. Shrouded in the gloom, a figure knelt beside the statue of the phoenix-god, blending with the darkness until he became just another shadow dwelling in the shrine.

Into this sanctuary of shadows burst the figure of the warrior-monk, the magician of Suzaku, shattering the silence as he flung open the doors. He moved swiftly through the shrine, gathering up scrolls, prayer beads, demon wardings, sacred incense—anything that he could find to arm himself for the upcoming battle. The figure kneeling in the gloom watched his activities with interest before deciding to alert the monk to his presence.

"Chichiri-san?" he called softly.

Chichiri whirled around in surprise, turning his good eye toward the statue of Suzaku as one of the shadows detached itself from the base and walked toward him.

"Chiriko! What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep," admitted the boy.

Chichiri groaned inwardly. He didn't need this now; he didn't want to be compelled to comfort a sleepless child when he was rushing to engage an unknown enemy in combat.

"No, I'm not asking for reassurance," Chiriko said, reading Chichiri's thoughts with uncanny accuracy. "I came here to pray for us all, and now that you're here, I want to offer my help."

Chichiri sighed. "Chiriko, I appreciate your offer, but this is a very serious and complicated situation, and--"

"You don't need a little boy getting in your way."

Chichiri paused, suddenly ashamed, remembering how this child was a fellow seishi who had just recently saved all of their lives.

"Please listen, Chichiri-san; I'll try not to keep you for long. But the stars tell me of danger, great danger approaching the Suzaku seishi. A faint cloud hovers in the heavens—it has already eclipsed and dimmed Tasuki's constellation and now swirls around Tamahome's. But the next constellation in its path is yours."

Chichiri felt a sudden chill. He too had had premonitions of disaster and felt disturbances in the ki surrounding the Shichiseishi, but he'd been too late to prevent the first casualty.

"Thank you for the warning," he replied. "But I don't have any other choice except to confront and hopefully defeat this threat."

"Yes, I know that. That's why I've decided to give you this." Chiriko held out the golden scroll that Taiitsukun had given him, his reward for his efforts as a Shichiseishi, and his weapon in the upcoming quest for the Shinzaho.

"But this is yours. It's meant for you to use when we leave on our search for the Shinzaho. And I'm not quite sure--"

"You're not sure what use it could be to you. Chichiri-san, I've examined the scroll. It holds vast amounts of knowledge, keys to unlock the mysteries of this universe." The young seishi's eyes were shining as he recalled his excitement at the enormous volume of information contained within the scroll. "Yet there is something else about this scroll. It holds power, great power—perhaps enough power to trap a demon spirit."

Chichiri looked at the boy intently. "If I use this, and if it works, the scroll may need to be destroyed. You may never see it again. Are you truly willing to give up all the knowledge it contains, all the power that it might confer upon you? I do have other methods to battle this demon, it isn't necessary for you--"

Chiriko interrupted again. "But you have grave doubts about your usual weapons being strong enough against this enemy, don't you?"

Chichiri looked away, silently admitting his fears.

"Please take it, Chichiri." Chiriko's voice suddenly sounded older, strong and clear. "I would rather lose this scroll than to have any more harm come to my brother warriors. It's true that we haven't known each other for long, but you all already mean so much to me. My heart breaks for Tasuki," his voice caught in his throat, "and I couldn't bear it if any of you were to be hurt. So please, take the scroll… and my prayers for your swift victory over this darkness."

Chichiri gazed at the boy with admiration, seeing the wisdom that normally hid behind his wide-eyed innocence. It had been unfair of him to underestimate Chiriko. Although he was still a boy, and played and laughed like a child, he was also a seishi of Suzaku.

Chichiri bowed before his brother warrior. "I accept this gift with gratitude, Suzaku no Chiriko." The eldest Suzaku seishi spoke formally, addressing the youngest seishi as an equal. "And I thank you for your assistance."

Chiriko's face lit up in a delighted grin. "So what are you waiting for? Get out of here!" he laughed, grabbing Chichiri's arm and pulling him toward the door.

****

Chichiri walked swiftly through the deserted passages leading to the furthest cells of the palace prison, the darkness yielding reluctantly to the faint beam of his lantern. The cells stood empty, silent affirmation of the just rule of the young Emperor Saihitei, who refused to fill his prison with peasants unable to pay their taxes, kitchen maids caught stealing a mouthful of food, servants caught pocketing a discarded golden button. That was not to say that Konan was free of crime, but the truly violent criminals were confined in the Imperial City prison, not the palace.

Thus, when Tamahome insisted on imprisonment here, there were no guards or prisoners to witness the shocking sight of a Suzaku Shichiseishi being escorted to a cell. Chichiri had no doubt that should there have been such a witness, Kutou spies would have carried the news to Nakago by now. And that was the last thing he needed: the Kutou army arriving on their doorstep while the Suzaku Shichiseishi were in disarray.

So it was due to the fair and kind rule of Hotohori that they were spared that disaster, and it was due to the generosity of young Chiriko that he now carried, he believed, a weapon of great power. These were good omens, signs that the pure hearts of the Shichiseishi might yet win over the darkness that had struck in their midst. His thoughts turned to the rest of the seishi and their miko.

Mitsukake had been a pillar of strength beside him this morning, Hotohori had radiated calm patience, throwing a blanket of normality over the day to conceal the turmoil within their ranks, Nuriko had risen unselfishly to the task of guarding and comforting Tamahome, imprisoning himself along with the young seishi. Even Miaka had shown unexpected strength and maturity when faced with the horrifying truth; for the first time that Chichiri could recall, she had truly acted the part of Suzaku no Miko. It was because of that new-found maturity that he allowed her to take over the care of Tasuki in his frighteningly fragile state, something he would never have entrusted to the giddy schoolgirl of yesterday. Tasuki himself, even when caught in his maelstrom of fear and despair, had been careful to give them crucial information to protect themselves and in a way, to exonerate Tamahome. And Tamahome, with almost no memories of the night's horrors, still took the responsibility to seclude himself for the safety of all. All in all, a surprising show of maturity and cohesiveness for a group of young people who had just recently met each other and become friends and comrades.

Chichiri slowed as he approached his destination. Carefully, stealthily, he placed holy objects and demon wards along the corridors, setting traps for the oni in the upcoming battle. He sighed, suddenly feeling weary. Unlike the younger shichiseishi, he did not leap joyfully into battle. Bitter experience had taught him the cost of violence: there were no guarantees that one would emerge alive or intact, whether or not the cause was just. Although he was capable of wielding weapons and striking blows, skills which had increasingly come into play since he joined up with the Suzaku no Miko, it did not come naturally to him. He preferred the quiet contemplative part of his life as Suzaku's monk. Deep inside, he knew that those peaceful, meditative days were about to be left behind, perhaps forever, as they set out on their quest to find the Shinzaho and summon Suzaku. Dismissing these depressing thoughts with a quick internal shake, Chichiri took a moment to meditate, concentrating and focusing his ki.

He stepped into the hallway outside Tamahome's cell, and stopped. Tamahome lay on the bench in the cell, still wearing the demon ward on his forehead, his head resting on Nuriko's knees. Nuriko's head was bowed over him. Both were asleep, tearstains on their faces, hands gripped together. They looked like two children abandoned in the forest, unfairly punished for crimes they did not commit. Chichiri felt anger building in him at the visible signs of their heartbreak. First Tasuki, now Tamahome and Nuriko: they _were_ children, only recently having crossed the line into young adulthood. He let his rage at the injustice of their suffering feed his adrenaline rush, increasing his heart rate and blood flow, and bringing all of his senses to full alert.

He reached out to Nuriko's ki to gently wake him, another surge of anger flowing through him when he touched Nuriko's grief and pain. Nuriko opened his eyes slowly, his last two tears trickling down his face. Chichiri beckoned to him silently. Gently, Nuriko shifted Tamahome's head from his lap to the bench. Tamahome stirred and sobbed once, then was again quiet. Nuriko followed Chichiri to the corridor arrayed with holy objects, arranged to prevent them from being overheard by the oni.

"Are you all right?" Chichiri asked.

Nuriko nodded, his answer belied by the tears that continued to fall from his eyes. Chichiri placed his hand gently on Nuriko's head, trying to soothe some of the turbulence in the young seishi's ki. In less than a minute, Nuriko had regained control of himself.

"I'm sorry, Chichiri, it's just that the last hour was a literal hell. Poor Tasuki…poor Tamahome…" he caught his breath on a sob.

"Nuriko, I wish we had time to grieve, but we don't. Now is the time for retribution. I need your help—and the first thing that I need is for you to recount for me everything that you witnessed, from the manifestation of the oni in Tamahome to _every_ word he said, as accurately as possible."

Nuriko paled at the last request.

Chichiri took a deep breath. "Believe me, Nuriko, I wouldn't put you through this if it weren't absolutely essential. I need to understand _what_ it is that I will be fighting in a few minutes. Will you help me, Suzaku no Nuriko?"

At that formality, Nuriko straightened up and lifted his chin. "Of course, Suzaku no Chichiri."

In an instant, Nuriko had transformed his appearance to that of an unmistakably masculine young man. Chichiri smiled at the magic that Nuriko performed seemingly without effort, changing his appearance from an attractive androgynous youth to that of a beautiful woman or a handsome young man. Yet no matter which facet of himself he chose to present to the outside world, Nuriko still remained Nuriko.

While Tamahome continued to sleep uneasily, Nuriko repeated the oni's tale, at times choking over the descriptions but forcing himself to accurately recount the details. To his relief, Chichiri interrupted with frequent questions, which helped to dissipate the atmosphere of dread and horror induced by the story. Finally, Chichiri seemed satisfied. He looked up to see Nuriko trembling and remembered that Nuriko was very close to Tamahome and had also recently forged strong bonds of friendship with Tasuki: he, Tasuki, and Miaka forming a triumvirate within the Suzaku group: the three most likely to be found pulling pranks and having fun.

"I'm sorry, Nuriko. I'm sorry that you have to bear so much of the burden of this tragedy."

Nuriko raised his violet eyes to Chichiri. "Me? I'm not the one bearing the burden." He caught his breath, then asked hesitantly, "Can you tell me anything about Tasuki? Is he going to be all right?"

Chichiri frowned, unable to keep the pain and worry out of his face. "I'd like to lie to you and say that he's going to be fine, but it's too early to tell. He's hanging onto his sanity by a thread, and I don't know which way it'll go—whether he'll make a full mental recovery, or--"

"Or whether he'll try to kill himself," Nuriko interrupted, then burst into tears. "Oh, _gods_, oh, Suzaku, it was just last night that the three of us were at the Star-Gazing Festival together! He was laughing and teasing me and Miaka. Even after she ran off, we were still goofing around, entering contests and playing games. When we returned to the palace, we found Miaka brooding, and so we went to cheer her up—but I grew too cold, so I went in, leaving them alone together. Oh, _gods_, I should _never_ have left them! I left them, and he ended up getting huuuurrrtt!" wailed Nuriko.

Chichiri grasped Nuriko's shoulders, trying to calm him. "Nuriko, stop this! You know better than to blame yourself. If assigning blame ever accomplished anything, then I should be the one to take on the responsibility for sensing danger approaching, and yet failing to prevent this disaster."

Nuriko looked up into Chichiri's face, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. "That's ridiculous, Chichiri. How could you know what was going to happen?"

"My point exactly."

Nuriko managed to summon up a watery smile.

"I wish that I could tell you that your part in this is finished, but I need your help yet again." Chichiri looked intently into Nuriko's eyes. "I am about to call upon your strength in more ways than one, and I'm afraid that I may require more from you than has ever been asked of you before."

"I am at your disposal," Nuriko replied, his voice low and husky.

Chichiri stepped away from Nuriko and began to pace, rechecking the positions of the demon wards and lighting the sacred incense.

"I can't predict exactly how this battle will go. But I know what I hope to achieve and for that, I need a distraction. So I need you to be ready for a signal from me, at which point I need you to overpower Tamahome. You must be swift as well as strong so that you can take him by surprise. I don't want you to injure Tamahome, but it's essential that you immobilize the oni for me."

"Doesn't sound that difficult to me; I've done it once today already."

"No, the difficult part is yet to come. From what you told me, you lost control and jumped the oni, but that _must not happen now_. Whatever you see, whatever you hear, you MUST NOT react nor draw attention to yourself. Do you understand how difficult that will be? You may see something that will horrify you, but you _must_ control yourself until I give you the signal. Do you think you can do that?"

Nuriko had paled again, but he nodded resolutely.

"Now for the part where you must truly show your strength. I hope that this will be unnecessary, but I need to prepare for every possible outcome. Listen carefully, Nuriko: in an exorcism, there is always a chance that things will go very wrong, and that the mononoke or demon will take over the body of the exorcist. If that happens, if I get taken over--you must promise me that you will immediately kill me."

Nuriko fell back and covered his mouth with his hands. "Gods, no, _no_, you can't ask that of me, Chichiri!" His voice was a high-pitched scream. "There's no way that I can ever do that!"

"Listen to me. The oni is obviously able to access the thoughts and memories of the body he possesses. It is not my intention to brag about my learning, but I have far too much knowledge of this universe and how to use powers untapped by most magicians. If the oni gets hold of this information, he will be _invincible_, and not even Suzaku will be able to save us then. Do you understand?"

Nuriko just shook his head in denial and horror, his tears flowing again.

Chichiri grasped his arm and shook him. "Then think about this, Nuriko. The first place that this demon will go, hidden in my body, will be to pay another visit to Tasuki. Is that what you want?"

He didn't think that Nuriko could get any whiter, but he was wrong. However, Nuriko had stopped trembling and now stood resolute.

"I'll see him in Hell first!" he hissed, violet fire flashing from his eyes.

"That's the spirit!" Chichiri sighed in relief. "Now, mind you, I have no intention of letting myself get taken over; this is just a back-up precaution."

"But how am I supposed to know if you're you after it's over? This oni seems clever—what if he deceives me?"

"Good question. We need to arrange a signal between us; both for your distraction attack, and after everything's over, to let you know that I'm still me. We need something that the oni won't be familiar with, something we've only come up with recently."

Nuriko raised his right hand, the first two fingers in the shape of a "V".

"How about this?"

"That's good! It's simple, yet obvious. How did you think of it?"

"Actually, it's something that Miaka taught me. She said that it stands for victory."

Chichiri laughed, his heart suddenly lighter. "Perfect! Good omens all around, no da! As long as we have one another, how can we lose?"

Nuriko smiled at Chichiri's sudden show of confidence and at the return of his 'no da's. "Are we ready, then?"

Chichiri smiled back. "Let's go, Nuriko."

Together, they stepped out of the protected corridor, toward the darkness that awaited them.

*******

*******

Glossary:

Demon wards, or wardings — pieces of paper with prayers or spells written on them, which are effective in restraining or confining demons.

Prayer beads — necklace of beads which have either been blessed, or have a spell cast upon them, that if placed around the demon's neck are also effective in controlling it. (See Inuyasha…Osuwari!)

*

**Author's notes: **This chapter is dedicated to my sister, who loves Chichiri —I hope that I did him justice, Beem! I told you that he intimidates me!—and also to you marvelous reviewers, who inspire me to get off my can and keep writing. The next chapter is going to be very difficult, so have patience with me; it may take over a week to get it written and polished.


	6. Chapter 5 Exorcism, Part 2: Sacrifice

The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Musical selection: "Pax Deorum" by Enya from her CD "The Memory of Trees" copyright 1995, Warner Records UK.

*******

**Chapter 5. Exorcism, Part 2 – Sacrifice** (Tamahome, Chichiri, Nuriko)

He stood on a cliff overlooking an unknown ocean, listening to the waves crash and hiss on the shore far below. The sky was dark, storm clouds gathering in the distance. He shivered in the biting wind as black leaves swirled before him. He seemed to hear his name called from a distance. "Sou Kishuku, Suzaku no Seishi…"

Suddenly, he was pushed from behind and gasped as he began to fall forward–only to have his fall stop suddenly as he landed on something warm and firm. He opened his eyes to find himself staring down into amber eyes lined with dark lashes and sparkling with tears. The eyes looked into his with desperate entreaty and dawning hope.

_Beautiful, _he thought. _Beautiful…_ and felt himself warm with sudden desire. Instantly, he felt himself being dragged back.

"No!" he cried out.

The amber eyes widened in shock and betrayal, then turned away from him in despair, as black leaves swirled between them to cover the eyes forever…

"No!" he cried out, sitting up with a start.

He was in total darkness, unable to see his hand in front of his face. He couldn't remember where he was or how he got there.

"Am I in Hell?" He fought to keep from panicking. Just as he thought he would lose control, he saw a faint light in the distance, growing larger as it approached him. He watched it with desperate intensity, willing it to keep approaching, willing it to save him from the darkness that engulfed him. As the light began to illuminate his surroundings, he could make out two figures walking toward him, the soft gleam of their lantern shining on the bars of his cell. He remembered then--remembered where he was and why, and he closed his eyes in bitter pain.

He knew that the two figures now stood beside him, but he kept his eyes closed, denying his existence rather than theirs. As he sat wishing for oblivion, he felt a gentle presence surround him with an aura of compassion and concern. Feeling unworthy of such care, he tried to reject the comfort he was offered, but the presence stayed with him, soothing, calming him until he relaxed in its embrace. Finally he felt strong enough to open his eyes.

Chichiri was crouched before him, hand raised over his head as if blessing him, while Nuriko hovered anxiously behind him.

"Better, Tamahome?" Chichiri asked gently.

He nodded, unable to answer because of the lump in his throat.

"Tamahome, I wish I had the time to let you heal, but this situation doesn't permit us that luxury. I have to rid you of the evil that has encroached upon you, and I'm afraid that it has to be tonight. I'll be straight with you–this will be harder on you than on anyone else. You will suffer, and you stand to lose a great deal, perhaps even your sanity. The only way that I can hope to pull you through this intact is if you give me your full cooperation. I can't hope to succeed without it. So what is your decision? Will you help me, Tamahome?"

Tamahome looked up at Chichiri, his face shining. "Finally! At last, I can _do_ something. I've been sitting here all day, sick at heart, wishing that I could just pull this thing out of me, and smash it and smash it and _smash it_ until it begs for mercy, and then _smash_ it again! Whatever you need from me, whatever the cost, I'll do it, Chichiri!"

Chichiri smiled faintly at the young seishi's eagerness to enter the battle and his obvious disregard of the severity of the risks to himself.

"Tamahome, just so that you understand, this will be very dangerous for you–not just to your body or mind but to your very soul. This is not an undertaking that you can leap into with fists flying; it will require the calm focus of everything that you are, especially your soul. You cannot enter this battle with thoughts of anger or revenge, because then I am sure to lose you. Do you understand?"

Tamahome calmed at the deadly seriousness of Chichiri's tone. "I understand, Chichiri. I know that it may cost me everything–but this is what I want. So tell me what I have to do."

Nuriko moved forward at this and bent to hug Tamahome.

"I am so proud of you, Tama-chan," he whispered emotionally. "I just want you to know that."

Tamahome gripped Nuriko's arm, giving him a quick squeeze in gratitude.

"Stand up," commanded Chichiri.

Tamahome stood so that they were nearly eye-to-eye, the monk being shorter and slighter than his younger comrade.

"This is what I need from you, Tamahome. I need you–everything that you are, everything that you know yourself to be, whether it is Sou Kishuku, the support of his family, or Tamahome, Suzaku no Seishi--I _need _you to focus on everything that is you and hold fast to it. At first, you will be pushed back as I summon the oni, but there will come a point when you will feel a pull. I need you to hold onto everything you are: your thoughts, your memories, and most especially, your love. I need you to reclaim everything that is Tamahome and hold it fast. Do not let it go, or it will be lost to you forever. Hold tight and remember your love for the people in your life: that is one emotion that the oni cannot understand, and your best barrier against it. If you succumb to your hatred and thirst for revenge, the oni will attach itself to those emotions, and you will lose your soul when I pull the oni out. I can't emphasize enough how strong you must be, even now when you are filled with doubts about yourself and your role as a seishi."

Tamahome winced at Chichiri's perceptive assessment of his inner turmoil but stood straight and met his gaze squarely.

"I understand."

"Good. Now, if you can, there is one other thing I need you to do. When you feel that pull, and you pull back on yourself, it would be a great help to me if you could give an almighty push to everything that is _not_ you. There is risk associated with this move, so it's not completely necessary…but it would help."

"You can count on me," Tamahome said quietly.

Chichiri finally gave him a full smile, and Nuriko hugged him again.

"Nuriko, it's time for you to leave."

As Nuriko walked past Chichiri, Tamahome saw the monk pass something to him, something that gleamed briefly in the lantern light, then was gone as Nuriko retreated into the shadows.

Chichiri moved toward Tamahome again, his eye narrowed in concentration. "Are you ready, Suzaku no Tamahome?"

"Ready."

Chichiri leaned forward and pulled the demon ward from Tamahome's forehead.

"Come out," he commanded, setting his staff upright between them.

****

Nothing happened.

Tamahome stared confused into Chichiri's face, which tightened briefly with anger before returning to its former look of intense concentration.

"Come out, I command you, in the name of Suzaku!" He slammed his staff into the ground, making the rings jingle together musically.

Still nothing. Tamahome began to get a look of panic in his eyes.

"Calm down, Tamahome. Remember what I told you – keep your focus!" Chichiri urged.

Tamahome nodded and closed his eyes in concentration.

Chichiri spoke again, his voice taking on a tone that Tamahome had never heard from him before, one of contemptuous mockery. "Why won't you show yourself? Are you so afraid of me that you prefer to cower there in the body of a mere boy? I didn't know that I was so intimidating!"

Tamahome's eyes flashed briefly with a yellow glow that receded quickly, leaving his grey eyes still staring at Chichiri in confusion.

"All right, I see what you want. You're hungry, aren't you, but I'm not frightened enough to tempt you. Well, try a taste of this."

Chichiri closed his eyes and sent a brief surge of ki toward Tamahome. Tamahome felt the monk's ki touch his, and realized that Chichiri had never left himself so wide open to him before. He had a brief impression of great anguish, pain so intense that it seared his soul--then suddenly felt himself shoved BACK, pushed to the furthest corner of his consciousness, as something _not_ _him _surged forward eagerly.

Chichiri looked with satisfaction at the oni, yellowish-green light blazing forth from Tamahome's eyes and seishi symbol.

"So there you are," he said softly.

"Yes, here I am, little monk." Tamahome's voice was thick with a mixture of mockery and desire. "I understand that you…_want_ me for something?"

"Yes. I want you to leave this body and these premises forever. Never show your presence here again, and I may be persuaded to leave you with your life, such as it is."

The oni laughed. "Are you serious? Is that the best you can do?"

"No, but I thought it was worth a try. It is the warrior's code to always offer the enemy an honorable retreat. Not that there's anything honorable about you, but all the same, I've made the offer. Now that you have rejected it, I may proceed with a clear conscience."

"A clear conscience, is that what you call it? That's not what I tasted just a short while ago, little monk."

"Ah, yes, you…_tasted_ it. So tell me about yourself." Chichiri adopted a tone of intense interest. "I so seldom encounter a noncorporeal demon; usually demons have their own bodies instead of utilizing the comparatively frail bodies of humans. Isn't it confining for you, being inside something so small? And what do you nourish yourself with?"

The oni smirked. "Questions, questions…how curious you are, little monk! Well, I've learned something from this boy I inhabit–if you want something, you have to be willing to pay for it. So what are you willing to pay for that information?"

"What do you want?"

"Ummm, how about…_YOU?_"

Chichiri shook his head. "No, your price is too high for just a few answers. I have a fair idea of my own worth, and I'm worth much more than that. I think that you're probably hungry – how about just another small sample of what I have to offer?"

"What makes you think that I'm so hungry? I just had Tasuki last night –_ very_ fine he was, too – and today, I'm feasting on Tamahome and Nuriko. I think that I'm positively full! I don't think that you can tempt me, little monk…maybe just as a brief mouthful for dessert."

"Oh, no? Well, consider this. Those are just children that you've fed on: children in anguish, it's true, but their pain is still only a reflection of what you've inflicted on them." Chichiri's voice dropped, becoming low, seductive. "What would you say to a man's anguish, aged for years yet still intense enough to drive him to be a monk, pain that you had nothing to do with, so that for you, it will be totally new."

Tamahome's yellow eyes gleamed with interest. He moved forward, grasping Chichiri's arm.

"All right, then…let's have a taste," he purred.

"No, first you have to answer some questions. What is it that you want? What exactly do you feed on?"

Tamahome smiled. "How stupid, to waste your payment on questions that you already know the answers to. I feed on pain, of course – you know that, since you offer it up to me. Oh, fear, anguish and guilt are also extremely satisfying, not to mention the spices of hatred and vengeance. What do I want? Why, all of you: the Suzaku Seven and their miko. So innocent, so loving and trusting of each other – you're like lambs led to slaughter! The corruption of these pure hearts is the most delicious experience I've had in centuries!"

"How did you come into being? You know, you're very unusual--a life form that feeds on pure emotion, on energy alone."

"Not so different from you, little monk. You feed on energy, as well: everything you eat once lived and had a life force. I just learned to eliminate the intervening steps, so I don't need a body to process my 'nutrients'. There are advantages and disadvantages… I can go undetected for long periods of time, but there's always the risk that my host body will die, leaving me trapped in Hell. That happened not so long ago, and I was fortunate to end up here with all of you." Tamahome's face crinkled in a parody of a friendly smile. "Have I told you lately how much I've enjoyed being here with you?"

Chichiri frowned, pondering the oni's answers. "So how exactly did you end up here?"

"Enough of the questions! Now you have to pay if you want any more answers." The oni beckoned to Chichiri. "Come here."

Chichiri stepped closer to Tamahome.

"Now take off your cloak."

"Why? It's my memories you want, not my body."

"Maybe I want both!"

"That wasn't part of the agreement!" Chichiri answered agitatedly.

"Just do it, or this will be the last time you see me before I strike at one of you in secret again!"

Reluctantly, Chichiri unclasped his kesa and let it drop to the floor. Tamahome seized him from behind, pulling Chichiri to him in a spoon position.

"There we go. Now isn't this nice?" he purred into Chichiri's ear.

Suddenly, beams of yellow-green light shot down from the ceiling of the cell, illuminating them as if they stood in a cage of putrescent light. Chichiri looked startled at this development.

"Just a little shield to ensure that we won't be…interrupted," cooed the oni.

In the shadows, Nuriko clenched his fists. He hadn't expected this! How the hell was he going to help Chichiri with that barrier in the way? Too late, he recalled the oni's reference in his story to "shields and barriers". Did he remember to warn Chichiri about that? He couldn't recall--he'd been too upset while recounting the story to pay close attention to what he did and didn't say. That made him remember Chichiri's warning to not allow his emotions to overpower him, no matter what he saw or heard. He carefully unclenched his fists, forcing himself to pay close attention to what was going on, focusing especially closely on Chichiri's right hand.

Tamahome reached around Chichiri, grasping his shirt and ripping it down the middle, then running his hands up and down Chichiri's chest.

"Nice," he murmured. "There's more to you than meets the eye, little monk."

Nuriko bit down on his lip, drawing blood. It was _obscene_, this violation of the normally modest monk! He didn't know how much more he could take before he had to jump in.

_Calm down, Nuriko…and stay ready._ The voice came from somewhere inside his head, but it sounded like Chichiri. Nuriko drew a deep, quiet breath and crouched in preparation for the signal.

Chichiri twisted in apparent agitation in Tamahome's grasp. "All right!" he gasped. "Now answer my question! How did you get here? How did you escape from Hell?"

"Mmmm, from Hell to Heaven in one easy step," gloated the oni. "You can thank that meddling old woman you're always running to. She reached into Hell a short while ago, looking for some demon power to bestow upon one of her favorite warriors...you know, don't you think it's unfair to the Seiryuu seishi, the way she always sides with the Suzaku Seven?" the oni interrupted his story. "Do you think that she's gotten Seiryuu seriously pissed at her? Talk about blatant favoritism!" He thrust his hips against Chichiri and moaned.

"You didn't finish your answer!" Chichiri's voice trembled. "Tell me how you got here!"

"Why, I merely jumped on board when she pulled on my demon powers. That idiot bitch didn't even pause to check out the integrity of the power she borrowed; she just assumed that since there was no body attached to it, there was no soul, either!" Tamahome laughed. "And the next thing I knew, here I was, in such a lovely young body. All I needed to do was to lie quiet for a short while, learning about all of you…until it was time for me to feed! Ah, these reminiscences are making me hungry again! So show me what you have for me, little monk!"

Suddenly, an image appeared inside the cage of corrupted light, clear as a vision yet insubstantial as a ghost. It was that of three children laughing and playing, two boys and a girl. Nuriko looked closely at the smaller boy. He had silver blue hair tied in a low ponytail and long bangs that hung in front of his two warm brown eyes.

"Chichiri!" breathed Nuriko.

****

The two combatants and their hidden witness watched the three children in the vision as they formed bonds of strong friendship and love. As the children grew into young adults in Chichiri's memories, they watched rites of passage, the two young men growing to love each other like brothers, and Chichiri growing ever closer to the young girl.

Nuriko felt a lump rising in his throat at witnessing the aching sweetness of their first kiss. He was enchanted and embarrassed at the same time, feeling himself an intruder into Chichiri's most private memories. The time passed in Chichiri's mind, and they saw the betrothal ceremony for Chichiri and his fiancee, both of them joyful and unaware of the other boy frowning angrily in the background.

"Awwww, isn't this sweeeet," sneered the oni, pulling Chichiri closer to him. "Excuse me while I vomit."

"Be patient!" snapped Chichiri tersely. "It's almost time for what you want..."

His voice trailed off as the scenery changed, the soft yellow sunshine of the happy memories darkening into a storm, a monsoon lashing rain onto the bleak landscape. Chichiri's fiancee crouched before him, tearfully ending their engagement because of something that had happened with the other boy. The oni drew in a deep breath as Chichiri's pain and jealous rage flashed across the scene like a bolt of lightning. The scene changed to the two young men, caught in the monsoon and in their own hateful storm, as they screamed invectives at each other, the lightning of Chichiri's rage at the betrayal flashing again and again.

"Oh, yesssss..." The oni was thoroughly enjoying Chichiri's pain.

Suddenly, the young Chichiri drew a dagger and attacked his friend. They grappled precariously at the edge of a swollen, flooded river, the waters rushing fiercely below them. Nuriko gasped as Chichiri's friend lost his footing and slipped into the river. Chichiri jumped forward and grasped his friend's hand, trying to pull him to safety, the lightning of his rage now changing color, giving off feelings of remorse and regret.

"Ah," said the oni. "A slightly different flavor, but still palatable. If only the heroics would end."

As if by his command, the view shifted to that of a tree branch, thick as a log, hurtling at high speed through the floodwaters, suddenly being tossed into the air, striking the young Chichiri squarely in his left eye.

"Ow! That had to hurt!" giggled the oni excitedly.

Chichiri staggered back in pain and shock, blinded, letting go of his friend's hand. His friend screamed his name before disappearing beneath the rushing waters. Chichiri remained at the water's edge, blind, screaming his friend's name over and over again, his guilt and anguish flaring up like a wildfire around him.

"Mmmmmm," moaned the oni. "Perfect!"

Nuriko stayed in the shadows, weeping, keeping a hand clamped over his mouth to repress the sound of his sobs. One last image appeared, that of the young Chichiri, a bloody bandage over his missing eye, sitting in the ruins of his home and his life, his fiancee and family dead, a black aura of despair surrounding him, drowning him.

The oni groaned with happiness. "_Yes!_ It's just as wonderful as you promised!" He turned a lustful gaze onto Chichiri.

"You're mine now..." he purred, then pulling the monk to face him, he ran his tongue along the scar over Chichiri's missing eye.

Nuriko nearly screamed out loud, his nails digging into his palms, raging silently at the blatant violation, at the degading insult to Chichiri's suffering.

The monk struggled in Tamahome's grip, sobbing. "I gave you what you asked for! Now let me go!"

"No, I think not. I think that what I _really_ want is to compare the despair of your past with the agony I am about to inflict on you now! Which will be more flavorful, I wonder?" The oni laughed in excitement.

Suddenly, in a movement so swift that Nuriko nearly missed it, Chichiri twisted out of Tamahome's grip. Stooping to pick up his staff, he swung it at the bars of light in the barrier, shattering them. He leaped through the hole in the barrier and started to run as if all the demons in hell were after him.

Nuriko stared in shock as Chichiri shot past his hiding place, Tamahome following closely on his heels. Just when Nuriko thought that Chichiri might escape, Tamahome leaped forward and caught the monk by the shoulder, spinning him around. He dealt a back-handed slap to Chichiri's face, knocking him down.

"Just for this tiresome little interlude," the oni growled, "I'm going to make you pay double. Double the pain, double the fun. What I'm about to do to you will make your friend Tasuki's experience look like a pleasant afternoon's outing."

Chichiri got slowly to his feet, backing away from Tamahome.

"Please," he whispered, still backing away. "Please don't do that to me. Not like Tasuki. Please..." he pleaded, tears shining in his eye.

Tamahome kept advancing on Chichiri, his grin turning feral as he drank in his victim's fear and dread of what was about to happen to him. Nuriko stood clenching his fists in the shadows. Chichiri hadn't given him the signal yet! Did he even remember their plan, as shaken and distraught as he was after the oni had plundered his darkest memories? Nuriko prayed to Suzaku for guidance: should he leap out and attack now? Or should he trust Chichiri in his shaken state, and keep to their plan?

Chichiri turned away from Tamahome as if to run again. Tamahome jumped forward, ready to grab him again, when Chichiri suddenly whirled around to face him. Nuriko was startled by the fierceness of his expression. He brought his right hand up in front of his face vertically, palm facing to the left, first two fingers upright and the last two folded down. Tamahome stopped, confused, as Chichiri began to chant spells in a low, ominous voice.

Suddenly, red beams of light shot out from various positions in the corridor, converging on Tamahome and pinning him in place. Nuriko finally recognized the place where they stood: it was the corridor where they had talked, the corridor filled with demon wards and holy objects! Chichiri continued to chant, his kesa swirling around him in a mystical wind, as Nuriko wondered dimly when he had found the opportunity to pick up his cloak and don it.

Tamahome's face contorted in rage as the oni realized that all of Chichiri's apparent fear and agitation, his tears and entreaties, were just part of an elaborate ruse, a carefully choreographed dance designed to lead him here, unsuspecting, into an area where he could be entrapped. The oni snarled and pulled at the beams of red light that restrained him, feeling them begin to give way.

"Stupid little monk!" he hissed. "How long do you think these weak little bonds will hold me?"

"Long enough," Chichiri replied, then changed the position of the first two fingers of his right hand to form a "V".

Suddenly, the oni felt himself struck by a force that twisted one arm behind his back, while an all-too-familiar gauntleted arm pushed itself across his throat.

"Hi, again," Nuriko whispered in his ear. "Remember me?"

Chichiri darted forward, slapping demon wards on Tamahome's body and prayer beads over his neck, careful to avoid the seishi sign since he didn't want to push the oni back into Tamahome. Nuriko twisted Tamahome's wrist and forced him down into a kneeling position before Chichiri. Chichiri raised his staff horizontal to the ground, then began spinning it, still chanting prayers and spells.

"You're wasting your time!" snarled the oni. "Those stupid spells can't do anything to me! The only way to get rid of me is to kill your friend!"

Chichiri looked up at Nuriko and nodded. Nuriko reached behind himself to his belt, where he had stowed Chiriko's scroll when Chichiri had slipped it to him as he left Tamahome's cell. He tossed the scroll to Chichiri, who caught it smoothly in one hand.

Chichiri coolly met the glaring eyes of the oni.

"Time to go," he said softly.

****

Chichiri held up the scroll and began to rotate it slowly, chanting out yet another spell. The gold of the scroll flashed before the oni's eyes, seeming to pulse out beams of pure golden light in the same rhythm as heartbeats. Chichiri's chants began to match the tempo of the pulses, and the oni began to feel a powerful pull emanating from the scroll.

"Tamahome!" shouted Chichiri, his voice echoing like thunder in the enclosed space. "Reclaim yourself!"

The oni then felt a force _behind_ him, pulling parts of Tamahome out of his grasp. He felt himself sliding forward, no matter how hard he tried to resist, being pulled inexorably out of his host body and towards the scroll. In desperation, the oni grabbed at the last thing within his reach: a seishi sign glowing with red light. Although it scorched him, he did not let go, not wanting to lose his last hold on his host. At the same time, the pull from the scroll increased while the unknown force behind him gave a powerful push, and he fell screaming toward the scroll, still clutching the seishi sign which fell with him to be imprisoned with him. He made one last attempt to twist away from the inky void within the scroll.

Nuriko looked into Chichiri's eye which had glazed over strangely. Chichiri's arm still held out the scroll, trembling, vibrating as the being trapped within struggled to escape, then was finally subdued by the power of the scroll.

"Chichiri?" Nuriko asked hesitantly. "Is it over? Can I release Tamahome now?"

Chichiri's eye turned unfocused toward Nuriko. He seemed to give himself an internal shake, then smiled reassuringly at Nuriko, tucking Chiriko's golden scroll into his belt.

"Yes, it's finally over. You can let him go now. He's free to go, free to return to us. The evil has at last been eradicated."

Upon being released, Tamahome fell forward, slumping to the ground, unconscious.

Chichiri looked at him in concern. "Nuriko, can you look after him for a while? I need to talk to Mitsukake, then check in on Tasuki. I'll be back in less than an hour."

Nuriko powered down his gauntlets into bracelets, then watched as Chichiri turned and started to walk away. He suddenly remembered the last part of their plan.

"Hey, Chichiri!" he called out cheerfully. "Haven't you forgotten something?"

Chichiri turned back, a questioning look on his face. "Oh, of course, I nearly forgot. Thank you for reminding me, Nuriko."

Chichiri walked back past Nuriko and retrieved his staff, then turned and began to retrace his steps out of the prison.

Nuriko looked after him in confusion, then in dawning horror. His chest constricted painfully as he recalled Chichiri's last instructions to him about their secret signal. Tears rose in his eyes as he watched the beloved figure of the monk walk away from him--yes, beloved. Up until that moment, Nuriko didn't realize how much he had come to love the monk: he loved him like a brother, like a father, like a best friend. And it was that love for his friend, for his integrity, that would give him the strength to carry out Chichiri's last request.

Grief-stricken, Nuriko powered up his bracelets back into gauntlets again.

Getting up quietly from where he had been kneeling beside Tamahome, Nuriko moved swiftly after the retreating figure of the monk. Leaping silently into the air, he came down on the monk, his hand raised in the killing blow.

"I love you!" he sobbed just before he struck.

Suddenly, Chichiri's staff flew up, deflecting the blow and tossing Nuriko to the side. Chichiri walked up to Nuriko where he lay panting on the ground.

"I love you, too, Nuriko." He smiled, then raised his right hand, his fingers in the familiar "V".

Nuriko stared up at him in disbelief. "What? What do you mean…? Why didn't you do that _before_? _WHY?_"

Chichiri smiled at Nuriko remorsefully. "I had to see if you had the strength to make the ultimate sacrifice, Nuriko. I wanted to know if you could kill one friend to save all the rest."

"You _BASTARD!_" screamed Nuriko. "How could you do that to me? You fucking, myopic, self-centered _BASTARD!_" Chichiri's eye widened at the stream of invective that would have done Tasuki proud. "Do you have _any_ idea of what you just did to me? YOU BROKE MY _HEART!_ It broke my _heart_ to have to decide to kill you, but you didn't care! You _used_ me just to 'find something out'! How DARE you play with my heart!"

Nuriko put his face in his hands, weeping hysterically. "I thought we were friends, brothers, but it's just _fine_ with you to play with my deepest feelings as a fucking _test!_ I hate you! I'll never forgive you for this--never!"

Chichiri crouched beside Nuriko, his heart beating rapidly in remorse. Nuriko was right: he was stupid to think that it was necessary to test Nuriko's courage or conviction. _He_ was supposed to be the compassionate seishi, but he had gone ahead and hurt the one person who stood steadfastly beside him in one of the most frightening battles of his life. He felt tears form in his eye as he knelt before the sobbing figure of his friend.

"Nuriko," he pleaded softly. "I was wrong and stupid to do that to you. I promise that I will never do such a thing again." His voice broke. "Do you think that you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me?" He reached out and touched Nuriko's shaking shoulder.

"Sure I can." Nuriko lifted his calm, perfectly dry face from his hands and flicked the end of Chichiri's nose, laughing at the stunned look on the monk's face. "Look here, you're not the only trickster in the group. Two can play at mind-fuck, just you remember that!"

He reached out and grabbed Chichiri by the torn edges of his shirt. "But I hold you to your promise. If you ever pull a stunt like that on me again, I really _will _kill you!"

Then he leaned forward and kissed Chichiri on the tip of his nose.

*******

*******

**Author's Notes: **Yes, I know that I left poor Tamahome lying unconscious on the ground - but it's 3:30 AM and I have to get some sleep (my alarm goes off at 5:50 AM)! I promise that the next chapter will pick up right where this one left off. It's all you guys' fault! You gave me such wonderful reviews that I felt that I just couldn't leave you hanging over the weekend, even though I didn't plan to work on this chapter till the weekend was over!

To answer a few questions about this fic: no, it's not ending anytime soon. I have a total of at least 14 chapters planned, some of them already written, and the rest in my head. But there is a definite story arc here, with a definite ending; this fic won't just meander on and on (collective sighs of relief).

I want to thank each of you for reading. This is my first ever multi-chapter fic, and only the second fic I have ever written. I agree that the beginning is harsh, so I appreciate you all giving it a chance; it will lighten up, though dark elements will make an appearance from time to time.

I especially want to thank those of you who review - I love reviews, especially looonnng reviews! I'm stunned to see some fanfic authors whose stuff I really enjoyed - and then I wasn't considerate enough to review (hangs head in guilt). I promise to remedy that as soon as I'm done with writing this. I stay away from reading fanfics while writing, because my mind is a vacuum cleaner, and I'm afraid that I'll suck up somebody else's idea and spit it out into my story.

Speaking of taking credit for something I didn't do, I'd like to say that the last scene in Chichiri's flashback was inspired by a stunning piece of fanart I picked up on the web. I can't quite make out the artist's signature, but I think it's something like Willow 2001 - whoever you are, thanks! And boy, are you talented!

So back to the reviews (my fave) - let me know if you liked the twists - or do you want to beat my head in, like Nuriko would like to do to Chichiri? Let me know...Yawn. G'night.

Roku Kyu

P.S. To my sister Beem: Alright. Tasuki is still my favorite, but I think I'm falling in love with Chichiri now, too. Hope you like him as I see him: verrrrry powerful..and sexy!

P.P.S. Music, one of the most appropriate matches I've made for this entire story. The music starts at the beginning of this chapter. The eerie ominous wind-and-waves sound actually inspired Tamahome's nightmare scene. The lyrical bridge goes with Chichiri's happy memories, then segues into tragedy. The music ends at the oni's entrapment within the scroll.


	7. Chapter 6 Resolutions

The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

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**Chapter 6. Resolutions** (Tamahome, Chichiri, Nuriko, Mitsukake)

He drifted slowly up toward consciousness, feeling battered and strangely weakened. He opened his eyes to the soft golden glow of lanternlight, grateful that this time it was not overwhelming darkness surrounding him. Sitting up slowly, he caught sight sight of his friends further down the corridor. Nuriko and Chichiri were kneeling on the ground, facing each other, their foreheads touching as they laughed softly at some private joke, something that filled their laughter with relief and simple love.

Tamahome couldn't help smiling as well; their easy brotherly intimacy reached out to something within him, making him yearn to join them. He yearned to be part of that--he _had_ been part of that, he realized, remembering the close camaraderie which had sprung up between them during his travels with Hotohori, Nuriko, and Miaka, and then again on later adventures once Chichiri had joined them. It had not taken him long to establish bonds with Chichiri, as they fought side-by-side against Kutou assassins from their first meeting, and later against Nakago himself.

Even after his disastrous experience in Kutou, once he had finally come back to himself after nearly dying at Hotohori's hand, it had not taken him long to fit back in with the newly completed company of warriors. They all seemed to share this brotherly connection to one another--which made the subsequent betrayal by Chiriko/Amiboshi so shocking and hurtful. Perhaps the pain and sense of loss went both ways; he was certain that he had seen anguish and remorse in the eyes of the young Seiryuu warrior just before he chose death over capture. Tasuki had snarled that Amiboshi deserved to die, but Tamahome wasn't so sure. Now he understood the yearning to belong that must have tormented the young flutist even as he planned their destruction. Tamahome, as the first of the Suzaku seishi to join up with the priestess, had always taken his inclusion in the group for granted.

That was why Tasuki's initial resentment of him after the kodoku incident had never caused Tamahome a moment's thought. He'd never doubted that he belonged back with the Suzaku seishi, and his attitude was that Tasuki would just have to accept it. So he and Tasuki wrestled for position within the group like a couple of young wolves jostling for position within the pack. They jumped into brawls at the slightest provocation and shouted and bickered even more often, yet there was no real mean-spiritedness between them. In fact, it was this constant contact between the two young males that created the truest sibling relationship existing between any of the Suzaku seishi.

Tamahome had always felt like more of a father to his own young siblings, being forced into that role by his father's illness and the necessity of being the provider for his family. His relationship with Tasuki was the first time that he encountered a "brother" who didn't hero-worship or depend on him. Instead, Tasuki challenged him, fought with him, kept him on his toes--yet never once did Tamahome doubt that Tasuki would be there for him in any battle, and he was certain that Tasuki had grown to trust him in the same way. No matter how angry they appeared in their brawls, they always pulled their punches the same way that wolf cubs nipped instead of bit. They were content to end each brawl in a draw rather than cause each other any real harm.

Until last night.

Tamahome gasped as a clear image suddenly appeared in his mind: Tasuki crying out in pain as Tamahome slammed him with superhuman strength into a table, the edge catching Tasuki across his back. "No!" he cried out, as the images began flying thick and fast in his mind - the punches, the slaps, the slams into walls and furniture, and then...

"_Noooooo!_" he howled again.

Hands squeezed his shoulders, and he looked up to see Nuriko and Chichiri crouched beside him, their faces anxious and concerned.

"I remember," he gasped. "I _remember!_" and he began to scream.

"Nuriko!" barked Chichiri. "Get Mitsukake here as fast as possible, and make sure that he brings sedative herbs!"

Nuriko took off at a run.

"Tamahome!" Chichiri shook him hard, trying to get him back to reality again. "Tamahome, calm down!"

But the young seishi continued to scream, his eyes unfocused, turned inward to the violent images that were flooding into his mind. Chichiri reached out to his ki, flinching as the intense turmoil in Tamahome's mind burned him as if it were a raging fire. Desperately, he tried to send waves of soothing ki toward the young warrior, but he himself was still recovering from the trauma inflicted on him when he had allowed the oni access to his own agonizing memories. Impatient at his failure to adequately quell Tamahome's agony, Chichiri resorted to basic human instincts and pulled Tamahome to him to comfort him with full body contact, wrapping his arms around the young seishi from behind.

Tamahome continued to scream and struggle, and Chichiri expected to be flung aside by the young warrior's unnatural strength--but for some reason, he was able to overpower Tamahome and tuck his head under his chin. "Shhhhh, shhhhh," he whispered. "Hush, it's alright, shhhh..."

Tamahome began to respond, his screams trailing off into sobs. Finally he was able to choke out some words.

"Gods, Chichiri, I can see it all!" he wept. "He's screaming at me, cursing--and I've got him down on the bed--and then I'm tearing his clothes--and then I'm touching--and he's crying--and then I... oh, Gods, the _blood!_" His voice began to rise hysterically.

Chichiri turned Tamahome to face him and slapped him just hard enough to get his attention. "Tamahome, Suzaku no Seishi! Get control of yourself!"

Tamahome seemed to respond to this command, and subsided into sniffles and quiet sobs.

Chichiri turned him around and, settling into a comfortable position, drew Tamahome close again. "Now listen," he said gently in the young seishi's ear. "These are the memories of the oni, left attached to your body when I pulled him out. _You_ did not do any of these things; believe me when I tell you this. I know you, Tamahome, and I know what sort of man you are, so believe me when I tell you that you are not capable of inflicting such harm on anyone, let alone one of your brother warriors."

Tamahome relaxed at his words, leaning his head back against Chichiri and breathing a little easier.

"You must learn to push these memories aside, to find a place to store them so that they can't rise up and torment you on a daily basis." Chichiri paused and smiled ironically at the counsel he was giving to his friend. _Good advice,_ he thought, _why don't you take it yourself? _"In any case," he continued, "you should try to distinguish these borrowed memories from your own. Because you were pushed to the back of your consciousness as the oni committed these crimes, you should have a tangible sense of distance from these memories--as if you were watching a play from directly in front of the stage instead of being onstage yourself."

Tamahome nodded, taking a timid peek into his mind, relieved to perceive that sense of distance that Chichiri had described...until images from his recurring nightmare started pouring into his mind.

He heard his name called as if from a great distance. "Sou Kishuku, Suzaku no Seishi..." He moved toward the voice, its tones familiar, but filled with a strange desperation. "Sou Kishuku, my brother warrior!" Tasuki! he thought, and surged forward, encountering a strange presence that tried to block his way. He wrestled with the presence, finally forcing it aside, shoving it down and back...then opened his eyes to find himself in his room, resting on something warm and firm.

He looked down into amber eyes sparkling with tears. "Tasuki?" he asked, confused, feeling as if he had been drugged.

"Oh, thank the gods, I knew you would hear me, Tama!" sobbed his friend. "I knew you would help me!"

He saw that Tasuki's hands were bound above his head with some white material, then noticed the bruises on Tasuki's face and body--wait, on his body? He realized that Tasuki was naked beneath him, and so was he, and he himself was...aroused?

"SHIT!" he screamed. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Never mind, I'll explain later, just untie me before he comes back!" panted Tasuki.

"Who?" he shouted.

"Just hurry!" sobbed Tasuki.

Shaken by the sight of Tasuki crying, something he had never seen before, he scooted up and wrenched at the firmly knotted white material bound around Tasuki's wrists.

"I knew you would help me, I knew you would," sighed Tasuki, beginning to calm.

He looked down at Tasuki, still disoriented, noticing the amber eyes lined with dark lashes, filled with hope as they gazed into his; noticing the bruised and swollen lips, another bruise darkening one cheek of his fine-boned face.

"Beautiful..." he thought. "I never noticed that he was so beautiful..."

As he reached for a better angle to work on the knots, his skin brushed against his friend's, an unfamiliar sensation that filled him with a sudden rush of warmth. Suddenly, he felt himself being yanked back. He saw Tasuki's eyes widen in surprise and then in betrayal as his hands dropped away from the knots. He turned to fight the foreign presence he had fought before, but this time it overpowered him, shoving him back. "Noooooo!" he heard Tasuki scream.

"Noooooo!" he echoed, his scream startling Chichiri, who thought that he had calmed.

"Tamahome, what is it?"

"Oh gods, it _was_ me!" cried Tamahome. "It _was_ my fault! I was there, and I could have saved him...but then I noticed that he was beautiful, and just for a moment, I felt--and then it was able to push me back!" He continued to wail. "Did _I_ want it? Did I let it happen, because_ I_ wanted it? Gods, what kind of low-life must I be, to do that to him?"

"No, listen, Tamahome!" Chichiri turned Tamahome to face him again, but Tamahome suddenly noticed Chichiri's torn shirt.

"Oh, Suzaku!" he screamed. "I tried to do it to you, too, didn't I_? Didn't I?_" He pushed away from Chichiri, covering his head with his arms and crying uncontrollably.

At that moment, Mitsukake and Nuriko arrived. The physician took in the situation at a glance, and knelt beside Tamahome. Forcing Tamahome's head up, he made the distraught youth take a few sips of an herbal infusion. Tamahome choked but managed to swallow. Looking up at the three seishi who surrounded him, his face crumpled in shame, and he turned his back on them, drawing up his knees and weeping softly to himself.

Nuriko looked up at Mitsukake, tears in his violet eyes. "Can I hold him?"

"If he'll let you," the healer replied.

Nuriko scooted up to Tamahome, who flinched away. But Nuriko continued to patiently move closer until he was able to lay an arm across Tamahome's shoulders. "It's just me, Tama-chan," he whispered brokenly, then, laying his head on Tamahome's shoulder, he wept softly with him.

Chichiri and Mitsukake moved further down the corridor so that they could talk without disturbing the two grieving friends.

"What's going on here?" asked Mitsukake.

Chichiri shook his head. "He's a boy. He's just a boy who doesn't understand the normal reactions of his own body. Nuriko told you we exorcised the oni, right? Well, as a parting shot, it left behind all the memories of this body, and now Tamahome is blaming himself for what happened to Tasuki. It seems that midway through the attack, Tamahome was able to take himself back and began to rescue Tasuki, but then felt the normal response of an adolescent male to a warm body pressed up against him. The oni was able to use this response to overpower Tamahome again, aso now he thinks that _he_ is the one responsible for the rape, that _he_ wanted it to happen."

"Did you explain it to him?"

"You can see what state he's in; does he look like he's listening to reason? Anyway, he's decided that I'm his latest victim, and he won't face me, let alone listen to me."

Mitsukake glanced at Chichiri's torn shirt and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Don't ask," Chichiri sighed. "But there is one thing that's troubling me. Tamahome's seishi power should confer a little extra maturity on him, and give him a little more control over his emotions. I saw itin him earlier today, first when he sought our help for Tasuki, and just earlier, when he joined Nuriko and me in our fight against the oni although he knew the risks to himself were very high. But just now, he was completely out of control, as if he were an ordinary..."

Chichiri's voice trailed off, as his eye widened in horror. "Oh, _no._"

****

Chichiri approached Tamahome and Nuriko quietly. The two young seishi had calmed each other and were silent, save for an occasional sniffle. Reaching out gently, Chichiri touched first Nuriko's ki, then Tamahome's. He frowned, and reached out to Tamahome again. His suspicions confirmed, he returned to Mitsukake, one hand rubbing his temple.

"What is it?" Mitsukake asked.

Chichiri looked up at him, his eye darkened and troubled. "Tamahome's seishi power is gone. And I have a very good idea--and a very bad feeling--about where it is right now."

"Suzaku took it." Tamahome's voice was dull and weary. Chichiri and Mitsukake were startled, not realizing that Tamahome was paying attention to them. "Suzaku took it back," he repeated, "because he decided that I'm not worthy to be one of his seishi. He doesn't want me anymore--and that's fine with me, because I don't want me anymore, either."

Chichiri strode back to Tamahome. "Stop that, Suzaku no Tamahome. This evil act has nothing to do with Suzaku. You know perfectly well that it must have happened during the exorcism. This is the work of the oni. Do not insult our god by attributing such petty acts to him."

Tamahome did not meet Chichiri's eye, merely shrugging and turning his back on them again. Chichiri started forward angrily, but Mitsukake restrained him, shaking his head and leading him down the corridor.

"You were right the first time, Chichiri; he's in no condition to listen to reason. Right now, he is a traumatized adolescent boy, and the best thing to do is to give him some time to heal. Let's get him back to his room and just let him rest."

"I'm not going back there." Tamahome spoke out again, surprising them again with his acute hearing. "I'm not going anywhere except back to my cell. That's all I want. That's all I deserve."

Nuriko looked up at Tamahome tearfully. "Please, Tama-chan. Let me take you back to my room. Let's get out of this place and go somewhere where it's warm, where there's light..."

Tamahome just got to his feet, dislodging Nuriko, and walked back to the cell. Nuriko chased after him calling his name.

When they reached his cell, Nuriko grasped his shoulder and turned him around. "Tama-chan, please listen. Don't punish yourself like this; I can't bear to see you hurting like this!"

Tamahome paused, looking Nuriko in the eye--then suddenly shoved him down and slammed the cell door shut.

Nuriko got up angrily. "Damn you, don't think that you can lock me out!" Powering up his gauntlets, he grasped the cell door and ripped it off its hinges, throwing it so that it clanged against the next cell.

Chichiri and Mitsukake came running at the sound of the altercation--and saw Nuriko kneeling at Tamahome's feet, his head resting in Tamahome's lap, as tears streamed down both their faces.

"I won't leave you, Tama-chan; I'll never leave you here," Nuriko sobbed. "So if you want to stay in prison, so will I. We'll both be imprisoned together."

Tamahome didn't reply, but he put forth a trembling hand and gently stroked Nuriko's hair.

The two elder seishi backed away quietly from the tender scene, unable to speak for a few moments.

Finally Chichiri broke the silence. "Nuriko, the seishi who loves..." he said softly, wonderingly. "Will you be the salvation of us all?"

Mitsukake finally found his voice. "It would be wonderful if he could work his magic on Tasuki as well."

"I almost forgot! How is Tasuki doing, Mitsukake?"

"I don't know; I thought _you_ were with him. I was surprised when Nuriko told me you were down here with Tamahome."

Chichiri paled. "I left Miaka watching over him, but that was hours ago! You don't suppose she's left him alone?"

They looked at one another, then took off at a run.

****

They arrived at Tasuki's room panting, breathless from their headlong dash from the prison to the upper floors of the palace.

Chichiri could not sense any of the former anguish in Tasuki's ki. "He's either deeply asleep--or near death," he told Mitsukake.

"Thanks for the reassurance," grumbled the healer.

They pulled open the door to Tasuki's room--and saw two figures in the bed instead of one. The gentle light of a lamp shone on the auburn locks of their priestess as they tangled with the fiery locks of her fifth seishi. Miaka lay on her back with Tasuki's head resting on her shoulder as he curled toward her, his arm around her waist.

He must have subconsciously sensed their intrusion, for his ki flared up briefly, and he cried out softly, "Tama, don't go! The black leaves...the black leaves are covering me!"

Miaka stirred without waking. "Mmmmm," she murmured in her sleep, caressing his hair. "'S'okay, Gen-chan...I love you..." He quieted immediately, sleeping peacefully in her arms once again.

Chichiri and Mitsukake backed out of the room silently, closing the door, struck speechless for the second time that night. They looked at each other, stunned, not knowing what to say.

Finally, Mitsukake cleared his throat. "Well, he does seem a lot better at least."

Chichiri stared off into space. "I don't know how many more curves I can take--this situation grows more complicated by the hour! I thought that the exorcism would end our troubles, and we could start the healing process...but the changes are reverberating, increasing like ripples in a pond from a rock tossed into its center." He sighed, finally smiling up at Mitsukake. "But you're right; on the bright side, Tasuki is healing much faster than I expected, no doubt due to Miaka's help. I can't sense any of the self-destructive impulses in his ki that were there earlier today--so I think you should heal him whenever you feel ready."

Mitsukake smiled, pleased. "We'll discuss it at breakfast, all right?"

Chichiri shook his head. "I won't be here. Now that Tasuki is stabilized, I have to leave. I have to go to Mount Taikyoku."

"_Now?_ Why?"

Chichiri sighed again. "Well, my surface explanation is that the oni has somehow managed to wrest away Tamahome's seishi power, and we need to get it back. I dare not open the scroll here because that will probably put us right back where we started, except worse, because we won't know who has been possessed by the oni until it's too late. It's Taiitsukun's fault, anyway, so she should have a hand in cleaning up her own mess."

Mitsukake looked at Chichiri in shock.

"Oh, didn't Nuriko get a chance to tell you? The oni pointed the finger at Taiitsukun as the one who got him into Tamahome's body--and it was just as I had suspected from the beginning. Who else would have such power over, or easy access to a Suzaku Shichiseishi? It happened after the failed summoning, when Taiitsukun was handing out gifts. Although she'd claimed that she gave Tamahome nothing, it turned out that she tried to give him some extra demon power without knowing that the oni was attached to it."

Chichiri's eye narrowed. "But I have no reason to trust either of the major players in this game. Some things that the oni let slip, about an unfair balance of power between the Suzaku and Seiryuu warriors, make me wonder whether this truly is a major mistake on Taiitsukun's part--or a move calculated to cause chaos in our ranks, in the interests of appeasing Seiryuu. At any rate, I need to know the truth before we set out on a journey that she suggested, to retrieve the Shinzaho. I have no interest in leading us all into certain death just for her amusement."

Mitsukake noted Chichiri's slip in referring to himself as leading them all. Although the monk always appeared to defer to Hotohori's proclamations, Mitsukake was pleased to know that Chichiri truly was the guiding hand of the Suzaku Seven. It was only right--Chichiri was the eldest, wisest, and most experienced warrior, and Mitsukake felt safer placing their fates into his capable hands. Yet he was concerned about this upcoming confrontation with the powerful oracle of the Four Gods.

"Chichiri, are you sure that you should go there alone? I worry what will happen if Taiitsukun becomes angry with you; won't you let one of us accompany you?"

Chichiri smiled at his friend's concern. "Don't worry, Mitsukake. I have a few powers that not even Taiitsukun knows about; I can take care of myself. Besides, you all are needed here desperately. None of you can be spared."

"But aren't you going to be gone only a short while, a few hours, Suzaku willing?"

"No. I'm not going to transport myself there the usual way. I prefer to enter through the back door this time, so that I can have a quick look around before I announce my presence to Taiitsukun."

"The back door?"

"Yes. I used to live on Mount Taikyoku for awhile, you know, studying with Taiitsukun. I, ahem, created a way to get back there without Taiitsukun's permission, in case I ever needed to do so. But it requires several days ride out to the actual ice-covered mountain to access this door. If everything goes well and I can transport back, you should see me in about five to six days. If not, and I run into trouble, it may take me longer but I _will_ get word back to you. And that is why I cannot spare any of you from your tasks here."

Mitsukake grumbled. "I think _I _could be spared without much loss."

Chichiri reached up to grip his friend's shoulder. "No, my friend, I need you here most of all. I'm counting on you to hold everything together, to keep the shichiseishi from blowing apart under this tremendous stress."

"How can you expect me to do that? I don't have their trust the way you do, Chichiri!"

"They trust you more than you know, Mitsukake. As for the seishi who may have their doubts, now is the time for you to prove yourself to them." Chichiri glanced back at Tasuki's room. "And you might want to start with this young one here. Not only will he need your wise counsel to help him through the terrible after-effects awaiting him, but right now, like Tamahome before him, he holds all of our fates in his arms, literally. There is a powerful connection between him and Miaka, more powerful than the one between Miaka and Tamahome, and we know how difficult it has been for Miaka to resist Tamahome. You need to make sure that their attraction to one another and their need for each other doesn't lead them down a path that will end our mission before it starts."

"Oh, _thanks_ for landing me with that one! On top of everything else, you want me to teach sex precautions to the most hot-headed, ornery, pain-in-the-ass adolescent it has ever been my displeasure to--Listen, why don't _you_ just stay around for the next few hours, and _you_ can tell him--"

Chichiri turned away, interrupting him in mid-rant. "Where _has_ the time gone? Gotta go--bye!" He laughed at the outrage on Mitsukake's face. "No rest for the wicked, no da!"

*******

*******

**Author's Note:** I want to make sure that I credit Purple Mouse (Mouse-chan) as the one who defined Nuriko as 'the seishi who loves' in her marvelous fanfic "Another Story." Hope you don't mind, Mouse-chan - it's just too good a characterization _not_ to use!

As for the questions about the meaning of the title "White Stones in the Moonlight"--yes, I know it's confusing, since I have neither white stones nor moonlight...yet. The meaning will become clearer as the chapters progress, first in Chapter 10, then definitely in the last chapter. But if you can't wait, I borrowed the concept from the liner of the CD "White Stones" by Secret Garden. (No, not Savage Garden--_Secret _Garden).

Gee, lots of borrowing going on here - am I the kleptomaniac author, or what?


	8. Chapter 7 Physician

The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

*******

**CHAPTER 7: Physician** (Mitsukake, Tasuki)

Mitsukake walked quietly through the palace in the pre-dawn light. It had been hours since he had seen Chichiri off on his journey, but the big man found himself unable to sleep. He felt the responsibility for the welfare of his fellow seishi weighing heavily upon him ever since Chichiri had ridden off into the darkness. Closing his eyes, he sent a brief prayer to Suzaku for the safety of his friend, asking fervently for the monk's quick return. He didn't know how long he could hold the shattered company of warriors together without Chichiri's help.

Had it really been just twenty-four hours since Tamahome had pulled him from his sleep only to thrust him into a waking nightmare? It felt as if he had been dealing with the pain and anguish of his young friends for a very long time now. He frowned angrily; yes, dealing with it, but accomplishing almost nothing. He felt useless, superfluous: Chichiri, Nuriko, and Miaka had achieved much more in healing their wounded companions. Mitsukake wished that he could just lift up his hand and use his seishi power to heal all of the broken bodies and souls in the palace at once--but he knew such power was beyond his capabilities. However, Chichiri had granted him permission to heal the most gravely wounded of the players in this tragedy, and that thought made Mitsukake feel a little more useful.

Quietly pulling open the door to Tasuki's chamber, Mitsukake peered inside. Miaka still lay sleeping in the bed, wearing the brightly patterned shirt and trousers that she called "pajamas", her auburn hair tumbled loosely around her. But she was alone in the bed, Tasuki no longer curled up at her side. Worried, Mitsukake leaned further into the room and spied Tasuki standing at the window, still clad in the white shirt and loose trousers that he habitually slept in, watching the first rays of the sun peek over the horizon.

Mitsukake noticed the tension in the young seishi's shoulders and the slight trembling in his limbs. He tapped softly on the doorframe to alert Tasuki to his presence without waking Miaka. Startled, Tasuki turned around, hastily wiping the tears from his face at the sight of the tall doctor.

Mitsukake beckoned Tasuki out into the hall, professionally noting the stiffness of Tasuki's gait, due to his severe back injury and other injuries. "Let's go to my clinic; it's time," he whispered.

Tasuki nodded, remaining silent so as to avoid waking Miaka. Mitsukake tried to support him with an arm under his elbow but found himself shaken off angrily.

When they arrived at the rooms that Mitsukake had designated as his clinic, he waved Tasuki toward his examination couch. Closing his eyes, he concentrated his ki, sending his healing power to surround the young bandit, bathing him in the greenish glow of the floating spheres. Tasuki stiffened at first, then relaxed, yielding to the warmth of the ki force as it gently healed all of the wounds of his body. It was soon finished, and Mitsukake had Tasuki remove his shirt, noting with satisfaction the disappearance of the huge bruise on the younger man's back.

Pulling on his shirt, Tasuki mumbled, "Thanks, Mitsukake," and got up to leave.

"Wait, Tasuki. We're not finished here. We need to talk."

A flash of anger crossed the young seishi's face but he sat down obediently, crossing his arms over his chest. "What about?" he asked defensively.

"We need to talk about the other night. There are things you need to understand--"

"Oh, is this where you tell me about the facts of life, _Dad_?" Tasuki interrupted sarcastically. "Where you tell me about how Part A goes into Part B, except sometimes there _isn't_ a Part B, so Part A goes into Part C, which hurts like _hell!_ I don't need this lecture, Mitsukake! I had an up-close and personal tutoring session the other night, and I think I know more about the subject than you do! So just shut up and let me go!"

Mitsukake took a deep breath and counted to ten, trying not to lose his temper. He unclenched his fists, amazed at how easily Tasuki could penetrate his shield of calm professionalism and reduce him to mindless anger. The young bandit had had that effect on him from the moment of their first meeting, kicking down the walls that Mitsukake had carefully constructed around himself and forcing him into dealing with people again. He honestly didn't understand how Tasuki got on his nerves so quickly; of course, the fiery seishi seemed to have that effect on many people, considering the number of times that Nuriko had punched him into walls and Tamahome had leaped into brawls with him...That thought sobered Mitsukake immediately, and he calmed in an attempt to reach Tasuki again.

"Tasuki, please listen to me. There are consequences to what happened to you, long-term effects you need to be aware of--"

"Oh, NO!" shrieked Tasuki, jumping up from the couch and clasping his hands together melodramatically. "Are you telling me that I could be PREGNANT?"

That was it: Mitsukake's thin thread of self-control snapped. Grabbing the young seishi by the shoulders, he flung him back onto the couch. "Just _shut up_ for one minute and LISTEN to me!" he shouted into Tasuki's face.

He realized his mistake immediately. Tasuki's amber eyes had widened and become unfocused, and he began breathing rapidly and shallowly, hyperventilating. He drew his knees up to his chest, all of his limbs trembling uncontrollably. He turned his eyes to Mitsukake in panic, struggling to get air into his lungs.

Mitsukake moved quickly, dumping instruments out of a silk bag and placing the bag over Tasuki's nose and mouth. Tasuki tried to knock the bag away, but Mitsukake held it firmly in place. "Breathe slower, Tasuki. Breathe in and out into the bag, and try to slow your breaths to my counts…in, out, one, two…"

Eventually, Tasuki regained control of his breathing, though he continued to tremble. "What the hell was that?" he gasped, looking at Mitsukake, his eyes widened in fear. "Did I just have a heart attack?"

"No, thank the gods, it's not as serious as that. What you just had was a type of fear episode, a reaction to a situation that took your mind back to what happened to you the other night. Your entire body reacted as if you were back in that room—it was panicking, trying to fight and trying to escape at the same time."

"But I knew I was _here_, not there! I could see you and this whole room; I didn't have visions or anything! I don't understand--why did that happen?"

"Tasuki, this is one of the after-effects of your trauma I was trying to warn you about. You went through hell the other night, and that is something that neither your mind nor your body can forget. You were injured just as much inside your mind as you were on the outside of your body; worse actually, because my healing powers can't extend to inside your head. The only thing that is going to heal you is time—time, and learning how to cope with your traumatized mind as if it were an injured limb. That's why I wanted to talk to you. I want to help you through this, Tasuki, but you'll have to trust me if I'm to do you any good."

Tasuki looked away, his face bitterly sad. His expression made Mitsukake's heart ache unexpectedly—to see the bright, laughing, lively boy of last week replaced with this broken, saddened man. "So you're telling me that I'll never be normal again—that I can go crazy at any time and not be able to control it. You're telling me that not even my mind is my own anymore…" his voice trailed off, sounding defeated and bitter.

"No, that's not what I meant. What I'm trying to tell you is that you've been _hurt_, _injured_, and you must work on healing yourself, allowing yourself time and taking advantage of any help that you can get. If you had broken your arm in a bandit raid, you would be stupid to try to lift a broadsword or draw a bow. You would be equally stupid to decide that you could never draw a sword or a bow again. But just as a broken bone can heal crooked, your mind can begin to control you instead of the other way around, if you don't learn the proper techniques to deal with your pain. So, for the third time, will you let me help you? Or do you dislike me so much that you would rather remain lost in your own private hell than take my hand to pull you out?" Mitsukake's last words were spoken with a bitterness that nearly matched Tasuki's.

Tasuki looked up, surprised at the pain in the elder seishi's voice. "I don't dislike you, Mitsukake. I just...I don't really know you that well. We don't talk unless it's about seishi business, and we've got almost nothing in common. I thought it was you who disliked me: I've seen the way you look at me sometimes, and you have this expression on your face like I'm the biggest jerk you've ever met."

Mitsukake flushed guiltily, remembering his harsh words to Chichiri about Tasuki. "Maybe we just started out on the wrong foot with each other. Maybe we can start over again, deal?"

He smiled at Tasuki, holding out his hand. Tasuki smiled back uncertainly but grasped Mitsukake's hand and pulled himself up off the couch.

"Okay, tell me what to do!" Tasuki said, with forced cheerfulness. "Just give me the herbs or whatever it is I'm supposed to take, and tell me how many doses—"

"It doesn't work that way," Mitsukake interrupted. "There isn't a magic formula you can swallow to make everything better. This is going to take work on both our parts, hours and hours of intensive work, and we might as well get started now. We have to teach you how to understand and control the feelings and mental side-effects that are going to manifest themselves in the oncoming days."

"So how do we do that?" asked Tasuki, confused.

"We talk," replied Mitsukake simply.

"Talk about what?"

"Everything—but especially the hard things, the painful things that you probably want to push aside and don't want to think about."

"Won't that make things worse, bringing up that shit and reminding me of it over and over again?" A resentful note crept back into Tasuki's voice.

Mitsukake sighed. "Tasuki, this 'shit' as you call it isn't going to go away. It might go into hiding if you push it away hard enough, but it will always come back, usually in an uglier and more powerful form. These repressed feelings may come out in things like, oh, say, lashing out at Miaka and making her cry."

Tasuki paled at the thought of being the cause of Miaka's tears. "All right. I'm willing to give this a try. So where do we start?"

"Let's start with what happened to you just now, this fear reaction. You've seen how it can suddenly take you by surprise. These reactions can happen at the slightest provocation, at anything that reminds you of that night: little things, like the sound of something falling, even seeing a certain angle of light—or a bigger stimulus, like an _incredibly_ stupid person grabbing you and throwing you across a room."

Tasuki smiled at the proffered apology, but frowned as he caught the implications of Mitsukake's words. "What? Do you mean that if I get in a fight, or maybe a battle, and somebody tries to throw me around, I'm gonna freak out like that? That'll make me totally useless, both to you guys and later, when I get back with my bandit guys! What the fuck am I supposed to—"

"Calm down, Tasuki. These reactions are not at all predictable. You may be fine in the midst of a battle and then get one of these attacks watching the sunset or something equally innocuous. What I'm here to do is to teach you how to handle these reactions. In this case, you have to deal with the symptoms instead of trying to reason with yourself. First, get your breathing back under control, making sure that you breathe in your exhalations, whether you use a bag as I did or just cup your hands over your nose and mouth."

Tasuki leaned forward, quiet and attentive for once, as over the next few minutes, Mitsukake patiently counseled him on how to cope with a variety of possible side-effects.

"When am I ever gonna stop crying over this?"

"Maybe never—but crying is good for you, normal. An occasional good cry cleanses the soul. Not normal: crying all day."

"What about this feeling I keep getting, like I'm…unclean, like I need a bath?"

"Normal: take a couple extra baths each day, if you want. Not normal: twenty extra baths."

"I don't like my usual clothes anymore, they remind me of the ones that…got torn."

"Normal: change your wardrobe. Not normal: walking around naked."

Tasuki laughed.

Mitsukake leaned forward and stared into his eyes. "Now I'm going to tell you about dangerously abnormal behaviors: wanting to hurt anything, especially small. helpless animals and people that care about you. Wanting to hurt yourself, finding yourself cutting or injuring yourself deliberately. Finding yourself thinking about ways to end your life. If you feel _any_ of these urges, you must come to me immediately, and we'll work it through together, I promise you. Don't hesitate to come to me for anything."

Tasuki looked down. "Thanks, Mits. But I don't feel like that anymore. Now I've got something to live for." He looked up at Mitsukake shyly.

Mitsukake smiled. "Yes, I know. Chichiri and I looked in on you last night, and that's when we first saw Miaka there. Quite a development; took us by surprise, I can tell you."

"Me, too. But I'm not questioning it—I've decided not to worry about anything and just enjoy it while it lasts. She said that it's forever, but I don't know…There's still Tama...and eventually he'll get back to normal."

"Technically, he _is_ back to normal. Chichiri and Nuriko exorcised the oni with Tamahome's help, and they've got it entrapped in a scroll. Chichiri's taking it back to Mount Taikyoku even as we speak, to get Taiitsukun's help in dealing with it."

Tasuki looked surprised. "Boy, you guys didn't waste any time. I didn't realize that all this was going on while I was…asleep. I guess it's a relief, but I wish I could have been a part of that, kicking that mononoke's ass!"

"Just as well that you weren't. Nuriko told me that it was pretty awful, that Chichiri had to take some terrible risks and some real hits to his psyche, too. But the one who was hit hardest was Tamahome. There were some terrible after-effects for him, and right now, he's struggling to cope with them, too."

Tasuki looked down again. "Guess I'll have to thank all of them." He was silent for a while, then shuddered and sat up straight. He flashed a smile at Mitsukake, although his eyes were suspiciously bright. Adopting his usual bantering tone, he said, "I guess I'll hafta take 'em all out for drinks."

Mitsukake looked at him, disappointed to see Tasuki's defenses up again. 'He's getting almost as good as Chichiri at assuming masks,' he thought. 'Well, let's see how good I am at getting behind the mask.'

"So what do you think you'll do when you meet up with Tamahome again?"

Tasuki smirked at him and adopted his thickest country accent. "Whaddaya think? Tell him that he's gotta take me to the fanciest inn in town for a nice dinner and some drinks. He owes me from th' other night. I mean, a guy expects a _little_ special treatment before he goes all the way on a first date."

"Tell me when you're through being funny. I've got nothing planned for the rest of the day; I can just sit here and wait."

Tasuki sighed, dropping the act. "All right, Mitsukake. I don't know exactly what I'll do, okay? I'm not an idiot. I knew he was possessed and that yellow-eyed bastard wasn't him. Anyway, Tama's gotta be pretty embarrassed, too. I dunno, maybe when we meet up, we'll just give each other a couple of buddy punches in the arm, puff out our chests, and talk about manly things like huntin' and killin' things."

"And that would be okay with you."

"Well, we'll look stupid as shit, but what the hell else are we gonna do?"

"No, what I meant was that you would be fine with Tamahome—no resentments, no blame?"

"No, why should I? I told you, it wasn't him!"

"You don't blame him at all."

"No."

"You don't think he failed you in any way."

"No!"

"You're sure about that."

"Yes! What the fuck! D'ya think I'm some kinda idiot who can't tell the difference between some freaky-eyed hentai mononoke and one of my best friends? I wasn't fooled— I knew the difference pretty quick. Hell, I'd been fighting that fuckin' bastard for some time when I finally got through to Tamahome. I _knew_ it the minute his eyes changed back. I knew that it was the _real_ Tamahome, and that he was gonna help me..." Tasuki's voice trailed off.

"But he didn't help you, did he?"

"Well, he tried."

"Did he?"

"Yes!"

"But he failed."

"Yeah...but the important thing is that he tried."

"You're sure about that."

"Yes!"

"You're not angry that he failed."

"No!"

"You don't think that he could have tried harder."

"Yes! No! Hell, I don't know! I don't know _what_ he was thinking, okay, Mits?" Tasuki's voice rose. "I only know that he was there, and then he was gone, and I don't know why! I don't know why he went away again, why he ditched me!" Tasuki's eyes widened as he realized that he had begun to cry. "He ditched me, he ran out on me, and he didn't come back! And I can't explain why, all right!" he wept, giving in to his pain.

Mitsukake reached out and gripped Tasuki's hand but pressed on, determined to lance the wounds in Tasuki's heart. "So how do you really feel about Tamahome?"

Tasuki struggled to get control of himself, forcing himself to calm down. "I'm mad at him," he said in a small childish voice. "I'm mad at him."

Suddenly his face crumpled as his emotions surged again. "He ditched me—and I _do_ know why! It was because he didn't care! He saw I was in trouble, and it didn't matter to him! _I_ didn't matter to him!" Tasuki gasped and sobbed. "I _don't_ matter to him! I thought of him as a brother, but _I_ never mattered to _him_ at all!" he wailed.

Mitsukake reached out and pulled Tasuki into an embrace, letting him cry against his chest. Privately, he marveled that Tasuki was able to get past the actual act of rape, justly absolving Tamahome of responsibility for that crime. No, what hurt Tasuki the most was the same moment that was now tormenting Tamahome: the moment when Tamahome reappeared in his own body and yet failed to rescue Tasuki.

Mitsukake shook his head at the wildly different interpretations each young man had of what had happened in that crucial moment. He knew the truth, of course, and could set each of them straight on what really happened, but he knew instinctively that it would be a mistake. If Tasuki and Tamahome were ever to trust each other again, it would have to be from their own efforts to reach out to one another. A well-meaning third party pushing them together might achieve a surface reconciliation, but the hurt would remain in their hearts, keeping them always distant from one another. If things worsened between them, he would intervene, but for now he had to be patient and give them the room they needed to resolve their own problems.

He felt Tasuki calming and lifted him away from his chest to look into his eyes. "Better?" he asked gently.

Tasuki nodded, too miserable to be embarrassed at his outburst.

"Do you really believe what you just said? Do you think that Tamahome would be as upset as he is right now if he didn't care?" Gently, Mitsukake planted the seeds of doubt.

"I dunno—is he really upset?" Tasuki asked.

"I've already told you that he was struggling the same as you."

Tasuki looked away, absorbing this information. His expression started to lighten, but then he frowned as a thought occurred to him. "Mits, if I told you that some small part of me is glad that he's hurting, does that make me a bad person?"

"No, it makes you human. But you have to decide what to do with these feelings. The way things are right now, if you were to meet up and you _wanted_ to make him hurt, his guilt would make him accept any punishment you wanted to deal out. The two of you could have a nice, sick little relationship, with you punishing him over and over and him taking it. Or you could decide that you wanted to do something a little more positive with your pain, and work out a way that you two can relate again."

"But sometimes I just get this feeling of overwhelming _rage!_"

"And you're _entitled_ to it! By the _Gods_, you're entitled to be angry! What happened to you was unjust and unfair, and you didn't do a single thing to deserve it!" Mitsukake leaned forward, gazing earnestly into Tasuki's eyes. "But once again, it's what you decide to do with it. Don't suppress it or turn it inward: that will only make you sick and even angrier. But make sure that you don't turn it outward toward some innocent third party. In fact, don't turn it toward any person at all; it's best if you take your feelings out on inanimate objects. Throw things, scream, trash a room—hell, you've got the best possible cathartic instrument in the world, and it belongs just to you!"

"What are you talking about?"

"The tessen!" Mitsukake breathed excitedly, his voice rising. "Just think about the _fire!_ The sound, the light, the _explosions!_ What a great way to get stuff out of your system! Just line up some flammable targets in a safe area, point your tessen and…" Mitsukake brandished an imaginary fan, "Rekkaaaa Shin'ENNNNN! _BOOM!_"

Tasuki jumped at the older seishi's enthusiastic vocal explosion. He narrowed his eyes and squinted speculatively at the tall physician, who was blushing at his own enthusiastic outburst.

"Well, well, whaddaya know, seems like still waters really do run deep. Somethin' tells me that you been itchin' ta get your hands on the tessen for a while now."

Mitsukake smiled shyly and admitted, "Well, it does look like...fun."

Tasuki clapped him on the back. "That's what it is, my man—fun! Fun _and_ violent, the perfect combination! So tell ya what; the next time that I feel like fryin' somethin', which should be, oh sometime in the next 24 hours, I'll come get ya, and we'll see just how good you are at 'Rekka Shin'en-ing' Hotohori's garden into toast!" Tasuki laughed, then looked at the big man with admiration. "Man, I never knew that you had such a violent streak in you! I knew there hadda be _somethin_' about you I could like!"

Mitsukake laughed out loud at the young bandit's ingenuous insult-within-a-compliment. He suddenly realized why Tasuki always got on his nerves: it was envy, pure and simple. He envied the young seishi's wild freedom and unselfconscious impulsiveness. Now that he knew the reason for his resentment, the resentment melted away, and he found himself actually _liking_ Tasuki. "Come on, let's go back."

The two seishi walked back to Tasuki's room in companionable silence, comfortable in each other's presence for the first time.

Suddenly Tasuki spoke up. "Thanks, Mits. Thanks for everything. I'm sorry I was such a pain earlier. I really appreciate everything you've done for me."

Mitsukake put a hand on Tasuki's shoulder, suddenly seized with a sense of mischief, a desire to give as good as he got. "That's okay, Tasuki. Being a pain is just what you are. I understand that." He smiled, then continued walking.

Tasuki grinned back, pleased to be understood, then frowned as he realized what Mitsukake had said. "Hey!" he protested, running to catch up with the older man.

They arrived at Tasuki's room and peered inside. Miaka still slept on, but as they glanced at her, she rolled over and stretched and yawned in a kittenish manner. The two men caught their breath at her innocent beauty.

Mitsukake cleared his throat. "Um, Tasuki, what you mentioned before, about Parts A and B—"

"Yeah, I know," Tasuki sighed. "No playing with the priestess, even if she does love me."

"Wellllll..." Mitsukake glanced slyly at the young man. "It's true that there can be no joining of Parts A and B, but surely you can think of other...recreational possibilities. Even as young and inexperienced as you are, you must have _some_ imaginative capabilities."

Tasuki blushed almost as red as his hair but stammered out eagerly, "Really? D'ya think that's possible without gettin' into trouble with Suzaku?"

Mitsukake laughed at the hope in the young seishi's voice. "You can trust me," he said. "I'm a doctor."

*******

*******

**Glossary of Japanese terms:**

mononoke - evil spirit or ghost; also demon

hentai mononoke - perverted demon

**Author's notes: **Well, here's my Mitsukake. Part of my inspiration for his character comes from his line in the last 'joke scene' (is that Fushigi Akugi?) at the very end of OVA 2, when the character director is pointed out to him: "Hey, is that the guy who made me speak in a monotone for 2 years?" I felt bad for him! (Yes, I know they're not real, hold off calling for the men in the white coats.)

The other inspiration for Mits, especially his secret desire for the tessen, is one of my doctor friends. He is a very, very smart, compassionate, even-tempered guy who is highly cultured and can converse easily on any number of topics, and never raises his voice—but he _has_ to see every violent action film that comes out, the more explosions, the better! Hey, if that's how he works out the aggression that comes with the Y-chromosome, good for him, I say! So, here's to you, Mits...and Mike!

This is the last chapter until next week. Real life is shouting demands at me, and I won't be able to get back to this fic till the last part of this upcoming weekend. So here comes my groveling for reviews part; the reviews keep me entertained when I don't have the time to write new chapters, and they really do inspire me!

Plus, here's Tasuki's schizophrenic appearance and disappearance of his bandit accent that I warned about at the end of Ch. 3; hope it doesn't confuse!

Ja ne!

Roku-chan (somebody called me that in a review - and I love it!)


	9. Chapter 8 Tribute

The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

But this speech belongs to me! Muwahahahaha!

*******

**Chapter 8. Oratory Tribute **(Hotohori, Tasuki, Miaka, Mitsukake, Chiriko)

Late morning sunlight slanted through the windows of the Imperial study, forming long bars of light that illuminated the rich tapestries and silk-upholstered furniture placed artistically around the room. Seated at an elegant black lacquered desk inlaid with mother-of-pearl, the young Emperor of Konan stared off into space, lost in thought, writing brush poised in hand.

The past three days had taken him back to the years of his power struggle to become emperor--hushed whispers imparting tragic news; veils of secrecy and silence drawn across desperate struggles; combatants disappearing from public view, their whereabouts unknown or unspoken; careful routines of a methodical life superimposed over feelings of panic and despair. Hotohori realized that he hadn't truly appreciated the simple happiness of the life he'd led upon meeting the Suzaku no Miko. Yes, he'd enjoyed traveling incognito through his own kingdom on their quests to find the Suzaku Shichiseishi. Yes, he'd been glad to gather together his brother warriors who then became his friends, closer to him than his own siblings had ever been. But he'd always been too focused on his goals: first, to save Konan; next, to win the heart of the priestess; and finally, to summon Suzaku. His failure to achieve any of the three had blinded him to the everyday happiness he felt just being in the company of the shichiseishi; his quiet joy at the constant companionship of people who liked him for himself, instead of bowing in servitude to the crown he wore.

Hotohori smiled as he thought of Miaka's impulsive, truthful outbursts and her continuous enthusiasm for food. There were Chichiri and Mitsukake, trusted advisors and good friends, always available for a heart-to-heart talk, or just a few laughs. There was the constant flash and fire of the exuberant interchanges between Nuriko, Tamahome, and Tasuki, always willing to leap into arguments or pull pranks, never restrained by the Imperial presence. And now there was young Chiriko, childlike but wise, usually a bystander to the more outrageous interchanges between the seishi yet often interjecting a few words at just the right moment, showing that he knew exactly what was going on.

He had felt his loneliness disappear in such warm company. For the first time in his life, he realized how it felt to _belong_ to people, instead of having people, things, and provinces belong to him. Now he felt that he'd taken his happiness for granted, not realizing how ephemeral all happiness was. He yearned for those days again, yearned so much that his breath quickened and his chest ached. Without realizing it, he had dropped his brush and reached out with his hands, as if he could grasp those happy times in his fingers and draw them back to him.

But those days were gone for now, the fellowship of warriors scattered. Chichiri, the brother he depended on the most, was gone on a perilous mission, facing danger alone. Tasuki was a seldom glimpsed ghost who appeared in the distance at odd times, always accompanied by Miaka hovering protectively near him. Tamahome had disappeared into the darkness of the lower levels, never seen nor heard from, and with him had disappeared Nuriko as _his_ personal guardian.

Hotohori felt a strange constriction in his chest as he thought of Nuriko. Ever since they had returned from their adventures in Choko, followed shortly thereafter by the return of Tamahome from Kutou, Hotohori had put a deliberate distance between himself and his former concubine/current brother warrior. He smiled at the memory of Nuriko's deception in posing as a woman, but stopped as darker thoughts took form. Nuriko's obvious and unconcealed love for him had caused ripples of concern to run through the ranks of his royal advisors. They had gently but firmly let the emperor know that although his private life was his own, he could not be seen in public enjoying the company of an obviously smitten young man. His duty as emperor was to procure a noble wife and produce a royal heir, and his people would lose faith in him if he did not follow the path they had laid out for him. So he'd followed their advice and put a certain distance between himself and Nuriko, never meeting him without another person present and exchanging as few words with him as possible. At first, this policy didn't upset him, being that Nuriko's devotion had made him feel uncomfortable, off-balance; Hotohori didn't know how to react to a person who was in love with the man he was instead of with his status. And the fact that Nuriko was a man confused him even more.

But when he saw the pain in those violet eyes, he felt an unexpected answering ache in his own chest. This ache grew greater as Nuriko accepted Hotohori's coldness, bowing to him and addressing him formally at all times, turning away to hide the tears in his beautiful eyes. Hotohori suddenly put his face in his hands, letting the pain wash over him, not understanding anything except that he _hurt_, he hurt deep inside, and he missed Nuriko so _much._

However, it was not permitted for the Emperor to allow himself human weakness. So Hotohori straightened, carefully wiped his face and readjusted his crown, and returned to his role as Emperor of Konan. Rising from his desk, he stepped over to a mirror and spoke to the man reflected there, using the words that his mother had used years ago to force him into the role he must play.

"Only you are able to be the Emperor. Only you have the knowledge and the inner strength to rule Konan. You are beautiful and you are wise; no other can do what must be done!"

As always, he felt strength flowing back into him, his vanity pushing aside the doubts that plagued him in his weaker moments. His unnatural empathy backed down to a condescending kindness, a more manageable emotion than his childish tendency to weep along with his woeful subjects. He was the Emperor of Konan--and he had a job that only he could do!

Today was a special day. Today was the day that Tasuki was to rejoin them at lunch. For the past three days, it had been only Hotohori, Mitsukake, and Chiriko meeting at mealtimes--and he suspected that Mitsukake and Chiriko tore themselves away from other duties and interests just to keep him from being too lonely at the once noisy gatherings. But now that would change, for with Tasuki would come Miaka! Hotohori smiled as he thought of the way that Miaka had sacrificed herself--and the demands of her endless appetite--to play nurse to the gravely wounded seishi. Truly, she was so selfless that it amazed him; could the Emperor of Konan do less?

Tasuki's courage and sacrifice filled Hotohori with awe...at the same time that it made him squirm. He didn't know if, under those circumstances, he would've had the same courage as Tasuki: gaining the chance to flee yet jumping back into battle, knowing full well what plans the oni had for him. Hotohori shuddered. He was filled with righteous outrage that such a crime had been perpetrated against his brother warrior under his own roof! His brothers were supposed to be safe in his care! Hotohori felt that he'd failed Tasuki in some way--and that was why he was determined to make it up to Tasuki with the finest gift that could be bestowed in the entire Konan Empire: a personal speech of thanks from the Emperor himself, transcribed and signed with the Imperial seal.

Hotohori glowed inside as he recalled other occasions when he had presented this gift to a few of his faithful subjects: their tears of joy, their deep bows of gratitude, their exclamations proclaiming that this was the greatest gift that they could ever hope to receive, and now they could die happy! Tasuki deserved such grace from his emperor...but unfortunately, it was proving infinitely more difficult than Hotohori had ever imagined.

For one thing, he could not use his usual speechwriters, being that the veil of secrecy over the incident was not to be breached for _any_ servant, by Chichiri's command. In any case, Hotohori wasn't sure what he would've told the royal scribes even if he had been permitted to use them: _"Write a speech welcoming back my brother seishi after being assaulted by another brother seishi..."_ No! It would be much better if he wrote the speech himself; he, at least, would know how to skirt the central issue with delicacy and tact.

However, he had a problem. Although a fine public speaker, Hotohori had never actually written the content of any of his former speeches, and now he wondered how his staff made it look so easy. They could whip out an appropriate and heartfelt speech on any subject with less than an hour's notice. Hotohori noted the position of the sun in the sky with despair; he himself had less than an hour to do the same. The crumpled balls of rice paper vellum surrounding his desk attested to his previous failures, his words either sounding too stilted or too condescending. He wished that he could write phrases that flowed as beautifully as the phrases in his former speeches--

His eyes widened as inspiration struck. He clapped his hands, bringing servants running. "Get me Sumisu-san!" he commanded, naming the Senior Royal Secretary.

A servant rushed to fetch the elderly gentleman immediately. Scant minutes later, Sumisu-san bowed before his emperor.

Hotohori didn't waste any time. "Sumisu-san, please get me copies of the personal speeches that I have made for the past two years."

"Do you have any preferences, Your Highness?" the secretary asked deferentially, charmed as always by Hotohori's politeness to his servants.

"Well, let's see; let's choose the ones that had the greatest effect on the recipients."

"Yes, Your Highness. Might I suggest your speech to the ship's crew who discovered the fastest route by sea to Hokkan?"

"Hmmmm," said Hotohori, "that one went over very well, as I recall."

"There is also the speech to those intrepid explorers who traveled in secret through the wilds to establish contact with the Hin tribes."

"Ah, yes, I remember," said Hotohori, recalling the mission to seek out possible rebel allies against Kutou. Sadly, those people had been decimated by Kutou's attacks and lacked the resources or manpower to be of much help. But the mission had not been without profit. "We gained valuable information thanks to the courage of those two men--yes, bring that speech to me, as well."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Oh, and don't forget my speech to my old nurse on the occasion of her cat's death." Hotohori remembered some of the beautiful phrases of consolation and commiseration that had brought tears to the beloved old woman's eyes.

"Ah, yes, a very old and beloved pet, as I recall. Excellent choice, Your Highness!" Sumisu-san wasn't sure why Hotohori wanted these speeches, but it was not his place to question any whim of the Emperor's.

Sumisu-san hurried away to fetch the requested speeches. Hotohori smiled in satisfaction, then sat down at his desk once more, wetted the inkstone, and prepared to write the finest speech that he had ever given.

****

Tasuki stared out the window, looking with longing at the trees that marked the border of the Imperial Forest. Usually the view consoled and calmed him, but today it was having little effect on relieving his jumpiness. Instead of pacing, he was moving nervously around his quarters, his seishi speed causing him to appear and disappear from one corner of the room to the next. It was giving Miaka a headache: trying to keep an eye on him was like being forced to watch a pinball game with her nose pressed up against the glass of the machine.

Finally, she sighed. "Tasuki, could you please stay still for more than five seconds at a time? Or at least leave off the seishi speed, and pace back and forth like a normal human being!"

Tasuki looked surprised at her irritated tone. "Sorry, but I can't seem to settle down." Suddenly he smiled at her, turning on the full force of his charm. "Hey, Mi-chan, what say we take a little walk in the woods? I think I know where there's a peach tree, and I'll bet we can get some pea-ches that may have ri-pened ear-lyyy," he sang.

Miaka smiled at his attempt to tempt her with her favorite fruit. "You know that we're supposed to meet everybody at lunch in a few minutes...and I'm starving _right_ NOW!"

"But, Miaka," he whined, "can't we blow them off just this once? Tell ya what, I need to brush up on my bandit skills. Whaddaya say I go steal some food from the kitchens, and we'll have a nice picnic out in the woods." He batted his eyes. "Just you and me."

She laughed at his obvious attempts to divert her from her course. "Tasuki, you know that Hotohori gets irritated when you ambush and rob his servants whenever you feel the need to 'brush up on your bandit skills.'"

"Don't know why he gets his knickers in a twist," grumbled Tasuki. "I always give th' stuff back."

"It might be because his servants go around in terror, never knowing if they're going to encounter Tasuki, Suzaku no Seishi, or Genrou, Phantom Wolf of Mt. Reikaku. Anyway," she said, fixing him with a serious look, "it's time for you for you to stop avoiding the others. You can't hide in your room forever, you know. It's time for us to rejoin the group."

Tasuki was surprised yet again by her new-found maturity, her adult willingness to face difficult issues head-on. He wished that he could be as brave--but right now, he felt like crawling back into bed and pulling the covers over his head. So, with maturity eluding him, he decided to fall back on immaturity.

"But Mi-yaaaa-kaaaa, I don' waaaahhh-naaaahhh," he whined.

"Not gonna work," she said tersely, hunger making her irritable. "C'mon, it's time to go."

Tasuki hung back, looking down at his new fawn-colored boots and scuffing them against the floor. Miaka's heart melted, as he no doubt intended, but her goal remained fixed.

"Tasuki, there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just Mitsukake, Chiriko, and Hotohori; you've seen Mitsukake every day so far, and you have no reason to be afraid of Hotohori or Chiriko. I don't know what you're worried about."

His voice was low, ashamed. "I'm afraid that they're gonna look at me differently...to see if I'm different--and I am. I'm afraid that they're gonna look at me and wonder..." he trailed off.

Miaka came up to him and lifted his chin, gazing directly into his eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I know that this is difficult for you to believe, but I'm so proud of you--and so are they. You should give them a chance to show that they care. Anyway, as I said before, you spend time talking to Mitsukake every day, so it's just Hotohori and Chiriko who you're avoiding. Chiriko doesn't even know what happened; he's far too young to understand that sort of thing, in any case."

Tasuki squinted skeptically, trying to remember what he did and didn't know at age thirteen.

Miaka continued to reason with him. "As for Hotohori; you know him, he's the soul of tact. No one's going to say anything to make you feel bad about yourself, Tasuki. And I'll be with you the whole time." Turning the tables on him, she opened her emerald eyes wide, and blinked appealingly at him. He laughed. "In any case," she continued, employing her last deadly weapon: flattery, "all anyone's going to notice is how sharp you look in your new clothes."

She gazed admiringly at his form, clad in a dark green velvet tunic over a blousy white shirt and matching dark green breeches. The ensemble was completed with light fawn boots and matching belts which criss-crossed his chest, then slung low across his hips. He'd stopped wearing his necklaces of beads, one of which had been broken in the struggle four nights ago, but still kept his earrings.

"All right, all right, let's just get this over with," he grumbled, trying to sound exasperated but unable to hide his amusement at the head games they were playing with each other. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen?" he asked philosophically.

Miaka smiled and linked her arm through his as they left the room.

****

Hotohori sat at the head of the table, smiling with satisfaction at how well the luncheon had gone so far. At first, Tasuki had hesitated upon entering the room, drawing back and looking as if he were about to turn tail and run. But Mitsukake had waved to him, Tama-neko perched on his shoulder seeming to wave his tail in greeting as well, and Chiriko jumped up, crying out "Tasuki-kun! There you are! Remember that you promised to tell me all about how to build a bandit aerial ambush platform!"

Miaka had made a dive for the food, and between shouting at Miaka to leave some food for the rest of them and trying to explain the principles of ambush to Chiriko, Tasuki had relaxed and nearly returned to his old noisy self. All the same, Hotohori had seen new shadows in the amber eyes and caught Mitsukake stealing careful glances at his patient, and knew that some changes were inevitable: Tasuki had had to grow up sooner rather than later. And that was something with which Hotohori could sympathize completely.

However, looking on the bright side, lunch had been a much livelier affair than previously, and Tasuki was completely unaware of the treat in store for him. Surreptitiously, Hotohori felt around inside his voluminous sleeves for the slips of paper containing notes for his speech. In his right sleeve were the notes for his hastily assembled speech for Tasuki, and in his left sleeve were the notes of his former speeches, placed there in case he wanted to improvise and needed sudden inspiration. Lunch was nearly finished, and almost everyone was lingering over the last few bites--except for Miaka, of course, who kept the servants running back and forth to the kitchen for extra helpings of almost every dish. Hotohori decided that this would be the perfect time to present his oratorical gift. He stood up and stretched his arms out across the table for attention--

--and then disaster struck.

Miaka made a dive for a dish that an inexperienced servant was removing before she had completely emptied it. The servant flinched back from Miaka's attacking chopsticks, causing her to overbalance. Her chopsticks now flailing as she pinwheeled her arms in an attempt to keep from falling, Miaka struck both of Hotohori's sleeves, which swung up into the air, sending his notes flying everywhere. Tasuki reached out a casual hand and snagged the back of Miaka's jacket, rescuing her from falling face-first into the remaining dishes.

"Thanks, Tasuki!" she gasped in gratitude.

"Baka girl!" he replied fondly.

Meanwhile, the young servant, seeing the emperor's consternation at his fallen bits of paper, dropped the dish he had been carrying and dived to pick up the notes for Hotohori. He hastily assembled them into a crooked pile, inadvertently smearing gravy across some of them, and presented them to Hotohori, bowing with his forehead touching the ground and trembling violently.

In any other kingdom, this would be an offense earning instant execution for the servant--but this was Konan. Thus the aggravated but intrinsically kind emperor merely waved the agitated young servant back to the kitchen. He looked at his notes, sighing, wondering if he should just cancel his wondrous yet increasingly complicated gift. But then he caught sight of Tasuki smiling at the whole situation, and decided that nothing would keep him from giving his fellow seishi the reward he deserved! Besides, he had just finished writing the speech a little over an hour ago; it should still be fresh in his mind.

Hotohori stood again and smiled as the eyes of Mitsukake, Miaka, Chiriko, and Tasuki (and Tama-neko) turned towards him. Glancing down at his notes briefly, he looked up into their eyes again. "My loyal subjects," he began, pleased with the smooth rolling tones of his voice--then noticed the frowns of confusion on the faces of his friends.

He realized that he had called them subjects when he usually addressed them as equals. "Wait, that's not what I meant to say," he said, confused, quickly switching the top piece of paper to the bottom of the pile. To his relief, the next piece of paper appeared to be the beginning of his Tasuki speech. He began again.

"My dear fellow seishi and miko, we are pleased to welcome back into our presence our beloved brother warrior and brave companion Tasuki."

"Hear, hear!" cried Mitsukake, grinning. Tasuki grinned back.

Hotohori smiled, then continued. "You can imagine the Imperial consternation when we heard he had been laid..." He frowned at the gravy stain which obscured part of the sentence, and failed to notice the smile leaving Tasuki's face. Hotohori scraped at the stain, then held it up towards the light coming from the window. "Up!" he declared in triumph. "Laid _up_ with grievous injuries which he had incurred in defense of his miko and brother warrior."

Tasuki relaxed back into his seat and picked up a cup of water as he continued. "We wish him to know that he was sore--"

Tasuki choked.

"Hmmmm," muttered Hotohori, scraping at another gravy stain as Chiriko fixed him with a wide-eyed stare. "Oh! That he was sore_ly_ missed by us all!" he said in relief.

Miaka paid no attention to the increased tension at the table as she looked into one empty dish after another.

Hotohori was pleased that he had come to the end of the stained piece of paper. He set it aside and picked up the next piece that was thankfully clean. Clearing his throat, he continued reading.

"We admire you in having the courage..." _Yes! _he thought, then clicked his mind into his automatic speech-giving mode, enunciating each word in his smooth yet regal tones. "...to penetrate deeply into the interior with your companion, becoming indoctrinated into foreign ways in an attempt to establish ties with a previously unknown culture, for the purpose of broadening our horizons. We look forward to you sharing with us the benefits of your...experience..." Hotohori faltered as he realized that he was giving the speech that he had given to the two secret emissaries to the Hin tribes. He looked up at his captive audience.

Mitsukake had placed his head in his hands as he rested his elbows on the table. Tama-neko was arching his back, his hackles raised at the tension in the room. Chiriko was anxiously darting glances at everyone at the table, while Miaka finally picked up on the strained atmosphere and had stopped eating. And Tasuki was bowed over his plate, his hair obscuring his face, but his hands clutching the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grip.

Hotohori knew that he had to act quickly. He tossed aside the slip of paper, skimmed the next two pieces and threw them away too, then almost sobbed in relief as he spotted a familiar phrase.

"We would like you to know that the Imperial prayers were with you,"_ Oh, thank Suzaku! _he thought to himself as his mouth ran on in automatic mode again, "...as you negotiated the ins-and-outs of this previously unexplored passage."

Hotohori stopped as Mitsukake left his seat to stand behind Tasuki, who was visibly trembling. He looked down at the paper only to recognize the speech he had given to the sailors who discovered the new sea-route to Hokkan. Looking up in horror, he noticed that Chiriko was now bowed over his plate, while Miaka had paled and dropped her chopsticks.

Caring nothing for the artistry of his speech and desperate only to finish, Hotohori grabbed at the next piece of paper and read, "And we conclude with our tender commiseration with you over the inconsolable loss after seventeen years of your beloved Fluffy!"

This was too much for the bandit. "My _WHAT_?" he shrieked in rage, jumping up and knocking over his chair.

Tama-neko yowled in surprise, jumping off Mitsukake's shoulder and skittering across the table in an attempt to escape, knocking over crockery and table ornaments as he ran.

"What the _fuck _are you _TALKING_ about?" Tasuki howled in despair, then leaped at Hotohori, sending more crockery smashing to the floor and nearly eluding Mitsukake's grasp.

Mitsukake grabbed Tasuki by one arm so that the seishi only grazed Hotohori, hitting his arm so that the papers flew up once again to shower the emperor. Hotohori fell back into his seat in shock as Miaka jumped up to help Mitsukake wrestle the enraged bandit out of the room.

Tasuki continued to scream, trying to lunge at Hotohori as Mitsukake dragged him toward the door. "You think this is _FUNNY_? You want me to share the benefits of my _EXPERIENCE_? I'll share the _benefits_ of my _experience _with you! How about if I take one of those _stupid _curly-toed shoes of yours, and SHOVE it up your _lily-white_, _IMPERIAL_--"

Miaka leapt forward and clapped her hand over Tasuki's mouth before he could finish committing an act of treason punishable by death. Mitsukake finally succeeded in wrestling Tasuki out the door, Tama-neko also darting out, hissing and spitting. Miaka quickly pulled the door shut behind them.

Hotohori sat frozen in his seat, staring off into space, as Tasuki's screams and curses receded into the distance. Finally, he blinked and shuddered, seeming to come back to himself. Glancing around at the wreckage of the dining table, Hotohori noticed Chiriko still bowed over his plate, the young seishi's slim shoulders shaking.

He narrowed his eyes at the boy. "What?" he snarled.

Chiriko finally lifted his head. His face was straight, and he fixed the emperor with a limpid, innocent gaze. "I thought that went rather well, don't you?"

Hotohori glared at him incredulously.

Chiriko continued, "I mean, the palace is still standing--and the dining hall isn't _completely_ wrecked."

"Oh, shut up!" groused Hotohori, shoving his hands in his sleeves and settling back in his chair to sulk.

*******

*******

**Author's note: **Well,_ I_ had fun with this one, anyway. Poor Tasuki - you would never know that he's my favorite by the way I torture him, would you? Sorry, Gen-chan - but some things are just too fun to pass up. C&C, please.

I also had a little fun with Hotohori's secretary's name. Sumisu-san is the Japanese pronunciation for Mr. Smith--a perfect name for a pencil-pusher, dontcha think?

And most important, a very BIG thank-you to Purple Mouse for beta-reading this chapter; your suggestions were GREAT and helped improve the flow.

Ja ne!

Roku

P.S. To my sister - Hey, Beem, doesn't Miaka's reassurance to Tasuki that no one's going to say anything bad to him remind you of a certain MCAT review course: "Go ahead and ask any question - no one's going to laugh at you!"

Love,

Your evil, _evil_ sister


	10. Epilogue to Chapter 8 Forgiveness

The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them. But I do own this storyline! Whoo-hoo!(ala Mouse-chan!)

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**Epilogue to Chapter 8. Forgiveness** (Mitsukake, Tasuki, Hotohori, Chiriko, Miaka)

Mitsukake strolled through the palace towards the throne room, trailed morosely by his reluctant companion. The events of the past hour had taken a few years off his life, as he thought he'd seen the efforts of three days of vigorous counseling go down the tubes in five minutes flat. Surprisingly, however, the misunderstanding between Hotohori and Tasuki had strengthened Tasuki's sense of self instead of weakening it.

"No way that fuckin' pansy-ass pretty boy's gonna make _me_ feel like shit about what happened!" Tasuki had snarled in his characteristic eloquent fashion.

Mitsukake had deplored the language but applauded the defensive sentiment behind it; it was the biggest stride toward accepting himself that Tasuki had made in the past two days.

The doctor couldn't believe that Hotohori, normally kind and sensitive, would deliberately do something as cruel as mocking Tasuki during a supposed welcome back speech. Therefore, once he had calmed Tasuki out of his homicidal frenzy and cautioned Miaka to keep an eye on the bandit, he returned to the dining hall to talk to the young emperor. He found Hotohori sulking in his chair, as Chiriko directed the servants to clear up the wreckage of the dining table. A few gentle inquiries had sorted out the truth behind the disastrous speech. Although Hotohori acknowledged that the mixed-up notes had made his speech much less coherent than he would've liked, he was still offended at the reaction of the honored guest, this being the first time that a recipient of his graciousness had actually tried to _attack_ him. Mitsukake suspected that the emperor was particularly miffed at Tasuki's insults to his royal footwear. However, once Mitsukake had gently shown Hotohori the content of his remarks (steadfastly ignoring the muffled giggles coming from Chiriko's direction), the emperor had paled at the implications he'd inadvertently made, and became truly contrite.

"I will apologize to Tasuki forthwith and present him with the transcript of my intended speech, sealed with the Imperial seal!" declared Hotohori.

"Uh, Your Highness, would you mind if I took a quick look at that speech first? I, um, want to make sure that Tasuki will, er, understand it; you know how over-sensitive he is nowadays." Mitsukake tried to diplomatically defuse a possible repeat explosive situation.

Hotohori looked down his elegant nose at the doctor. "Of course, Mitsukake. However, you will see that I'm not quite as incompetent as I appeared to be earlier," he acknowledged with royal graciousness. "I will make a transcript with my own hands and give it to you in the throne room within the hour. You may bring Tasuki so that he may receive it with all proper ceremony."

Mitsukake gave a mental groan of despair but ducked his head in gratitude. So he'd made his way back to the young couple walking around the palace grounds, Miaka having wisely determined that the best way to cool Tasuki's temper was to let him stomp around for a while. Mitsukake had explained the mix-up of speech excerpts to Tasuki, who reacted with frank disbelief that so many pernicious remarks could be the result of coincidence. The doctor stood firm, however, telling Tasuki that he had to go before Hotohori and accept his apologies. Tasuki replied by describing the weather conditions that would have to occur in the deepest depths of the seven hells before he would "kiss ass to that sissy boy." Mitsukake felt the onset of a pounding headache and lost his patience.

"Look here," he'd snapped, grabbing Tasuki by his collar. "That 'sissy boy' is not only one of your brother warriors, but also the Emperor of your country. He has the power to throw your sorry ass in prison for attempting to attack him, if he so chooses. He can also forego the formalities and skewer you on the end of his sword before you can blink. So I strongly recommend that you get off your high horse, get down on one knee before him, and accept his apologies with as much grace as you can muster. Do I make myself CLEAR?"

Tasuki recognized when he was out-gunned, so with just a few comments muttered under his breath, he'd agreed to accompany Mitsukake back to the throne room within the hour. Mitsukake's usual demeanor as the gentle healer made Tasuki forget how intimidating the big man could be--something he should have remembered, considering that he had seen Mitsukake's formidable fighting skills first-hand when they had met in Choko.

So it came about that Mitsukake entered the throne room, Tasuki dragging along behind him, to be admitted into the splendor of the Imperial presence. Hotohori sat on his throne, smiling his regal welcoming smile as his brother seishi approached him. Tasuki moved off to one side, his version of graciousness involving a belligerent stance with arms crossed across his chest, a scowl darkening his features and his mouth firmly closed. Mitsukake frowned at him before deciding that Tasuki's closed mouth was probably the best that he could hope for, and sighed.

"Your Highness." Mitsukake bowed to Hotohori as the emperor presented him with Tasuki's gift.

Bowing again, he retreated to scan the speech quickly.

Meanwhile, Hotohori regarded Tasuki with some amusement at his sullen attitude. 'Quite immature,' thought Hotohori, forgetting his own sulky stance not one hour before. Although there was only one year's difference in age between the two, Hotohori prided himself on his advanced maturity. It was no doubt due to the awesome responsibilities that he had been forced to assume while Tasuki, at the same age, had probably been playing in the dirt, stealing apples, and brawling with the village lads. Hotohori preened himself on his superior intellect and decided to treat Tasuki with the utmost kindness and graciousness, making allowances for his deprived background.

Mitsukake finished reading the speech, noting with relief that it was actually a very nice, personal speech, containing nothing that could offend Tasuki. He waved Tasuki forward towards Hotohori, then gestured for him to kneel. Tasuki's scowl grew deeper, but he did as ordered.

"Rise, Tasuki. There is no need for you to kneel before us," Hotohori pronounced grandly. "We wish to offer our deepest regrets that we may have made any statements that caused you distress in any way. We assure you that we had no such intention. We want you to know that we hold you, our brother, in the highest esteem."

"We," muttered Tasuki under his breath. "Ya got a flea in your pocket, or somethin'?"

Mitsukake jabbed Tasuki in the side with his elbow, indicating that Tasuki was expected to respond to the apology.

"Yeah, well, maybe I flew off the handle too quick," Tasuki admitted.

Mitsukake gave a sigh of relief that Tasuki was actually apologizing with as much grace as he knew.

"I mean," Tasuki continued, "I thought you were sayin' all that shit on _purpose_. Ya know, you're usually Mister Perfect: perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect fuckin' _attitude_." He was feeling congenial after Hotohori's apology and relaxed, chatting easily. "It never occurred to me that you were fuckin' up big time; I never saw you make such an _ass_ of yourself before! So sure, I forgive ya – it's kinda nice to know that the emperor can be as big an asshole as the next guy."

Mitsukake put a hand up to his temple. "I _knew_ this was a mistake," he muttered.

A muscle began to tic under Hotohori's left eye. "Well, I'm pleased that you're pleased," he said icily. "I suppose it was too much to hope that someone of your limited perceptive abilities could discern that I had mixed up my notes, even though it happened right under your nose! I will make allowances for your limited intellect and deprived upbringing, and forgive _you_ for attempting to assault my royal person."

Tasuki flushed with anger. Not being as stupid as Hotohori thought, he understood each implied insult perfectly. "Well, I forgive _you_ for being such a stuck-up _ass_ that you didn't even _realize_ what you were saying, bein' too in love with the sound of your own voice to pay attention to what _everybody else_ was noticing about your stupid fuckin' speech! So who's the one with 'limited perceptive abilities' _now?_"

Hotohori jumped up in rage. "Well, I forgive _you_ for being such a complete _CRETIN_ that you can't _even_--"

"All right, boys, that's quite enough _forgiveness_ out of each of you!" Mitsukake had reached the end of his rope. Collaring Tasuki with one hand and pushing Hotohori back onto his throne with the other, he took control of the rapidly degenerating situation. "We're going to stop _right now_ before this turns into a pointless fist-fight! YOU!" he shook Tasuki by his collar, "go over there, sit down, SHUT UP, and read the speech that Hotohori wrote for you!" He pushed Tasuki off to the side, shoving the scroll into his hands.

Hotohori smirked (in a very mature way) at Tasuki. "He probably needs help in reading words more than two characters in length--" he began.

"And YOU!" Mitsukake loomed over Hotohori, glaring into his face. "SHUT UP, _sit there_, and wait for him to finish!"

Hotohori shrank back onto his throne, unused to being reprimanded in such a manner, not since…he couldn't remember when.

Tasuki plopped himself down on the floor, scowling.

"_READ_!" commanded Mitsukake.

Tasuki reluctantly unrolled the ornate scroll and began reading. After a while, he stopped scowling as the words sank in. Finally, he looked up at Hotohori. "You wrote this?" he asked.

"Yes," Hotohori sulked, staring off in the opposite direction.

"By yourself? No one helped you?"

"No."

Tasuki looked down at the scroll again. "It's nice…real nice." he said hesitantly. "Thanks, Hotohori."

Hotohori straightened on the throne, finally meeting Tasuki's eyes. "I _wanted_ it to be nice; I worked all morning on it," he said earnestly.

Tasuki blushed, finally appreciating his brother warrior's efforts to do something special for him. "Well, thanks again, Hotohori. I really appreciate it."

Hotohori beamed, all transgressions forgiven. "I'm glad that you like it! I meant every word that I wrote!" He stopped, suddenly remembering their recent fight. "But I didn't mean what I said before, about you being stupid--" Hotohori paused expectantly.

"That's okay," Tasuki replied, smiling. Mitsukake gave him a discreet kick. "Oh! And I didn't mean what I said about you being stuck-up." He crossed his fingers behind his back.

Mitsukake rolled his eyes but decided that there was no harm in it as long as Hotohori didn't notice.

Hotohori beamed again. "I have a wonderful idea! Let's persuade the kitchen to make dessert for us, since we missed it at lunch!" He came down off his throne and threw his arm around Tasuki's shoulders.

Mitsukake reached the door first and threw it open. Miaka and Chiriko fell into the room in a tangled heap, a plain scroll rolling around them. "Hmmm, I don't remember you two being invited here."

Miaka untangled herself from Chiriko and leaped to her feet. "I just didn't want to miss out on dessert!" she said brightly.

Tasuki and Hotohori exchanged glances then followed her, laughing, back to the dining hall.

"And I didn't want to miss out on that scene," murmured Chiriko as he scrambled to retrieve the scroll and a charcoal crayon. "Some things are worth more than gold!" he chuckled to himself.

Mitsukake's shadow suddenly fell across him. "You wouldn't by any chance be _recording_ these events, would you?"

Chiriko opened wide, innocent eyes and blinked up at his brother seishi, hiding the scroll and crayon behind his back. "Who, me? I would never do such a thing!"

"Uh-huh. Just so you know: I get final approval on the finished edition. And you'd better be depicting me in a positive light!"

"It's a deal," sighed Chiriko, relieved to avoid confiscation of his work. Smiling, they strolled out of the throne room together.

*******

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**Author's note:** Well, I had to have Hotohori and Tasuki make up, didn't I? Though it was close for a minute there. I keep telling those two not to fight! Ahem. (glances at people shaking their heads over loony authors)

There will be another update shortly, but it will only be the insertion of a Prologue for the series, and the correction of my numerous typos and misspellings throughout the chapters. Ugh! I hate typos! And misspellings are embarrassing!

Where is Chichiri? He's coming back in Chapter 11! (ducks objects thrown by Chichiri-lovers) Please be patient – it will be worth the wait, I promise you! Picture the Chichiri of Chapter 5, but even more! More power, more mystery…hey, I'm half in love with him myself, now!

And Nuriko's back in Chapter 9! (the new Chapter 9! The old chapter 9 is now chapter 10!). Hope you'll like it, Mouse-chan, Ryuen, everybody--thanks for your reviews!


	11. Chapter 9 Flight

The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

But the aerial ambush platform is mine, all mine!

Musical Selection: _Very_ important, as it inspired this entire chapter:"The Memory of Trees" by Enya, from her CD "The Memory of Trees" copyright 1995, Warner Records UK

This chapter is dedicated to the memory of my friend Ralph.

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**Chapter 9. Flight **(Nuriko, Chiriko, Miaka, Mitsukake, Tasuki)

The early afternoon sunlight shimmered on the east lawn of the Imperial Palace, illuminating the figure who walked across its green velvet expanse towards the darkness that signaled the beginning of the Imperial Wood. The brightness of the light made the figure seem to glow and dance as it moved: a false illusion which belied the actual weariness in each step the figure took. He walked with his head bowed, carrying something wrapped in silk against one shoulder as if it were a heavy burden, although in truth, his strength would allow him to balance the object on one finger if he so desired.

Nuriko continued to stare at his feet as he walked, his long purple braid swinging gently, the dark circles under his eyes making the violet orbs appear even larger and brighter than usual. His heart was heavy as he pondered the events of the past few hours that had led him on this solo trek into the woods.

Mitsukake had come to see Tamahome once again this morning, and once again Tamahome had refused to respond to the tall doctor's gentle queries and soothing words. He'd just stared off into space, refusing all gestures of help or comfort—except from Nuriko. He still talked to Nuriko, although he spoke less and less as each day passed. They talked of innocuous and inconsequential things: events from their childhood, anything that could be spoken of without pain or introspection. Nuriko noticed that Tamahome had stopped eating for the past two days, so he'd drawn the healer aside, voicing his worries.

Mitsukake had frowned in concern. "Refusing to eat is a way that people who feel helpless exert control over their environment. Tamahome has been deeply traumatized by the events of a few days ago, and it's no surprise that he feels his life is careening out of control. So we'll give him a little time—but if he doesn't start eating again in a day or two, we'll have to take that control away from him and force him to eat."

Nuriko had closed his eyes in pain, hating both the problem and the solution.

Mitsukake had tipped up Nuriko's chin with one finger, examining the young seishi's face. "You're about to become very ill if you don't take a break from this soon."

"I'm fine!" protested Nuriko. "And I can't leave Tama-chan alone here. Who else is going to be here for him?"

"Any one of the rest of us would be more than glad to take over for you, Nuriko. Miaka told me that you'd turned her away three times already."

Nuriko looked away. "Tama refuses to see her—or anyone else. He only sees you because I force him to, and you can see all the good it does. He won't talk to you or even look at you…and I'm afraid that if I disobey any more of his requests, he'll treat me the same way, as well—and then he'll have no one!" His voice broke.

"All right, Nuriko. But you do need a least a couple of hours respite. So I'll make you a deal: I won't drag you out of here if you agree to meet me outside this afternoon, maybe while Tamahome's asleep." Mitsukake smiled as inspiration struck. "In fact, you _must_ meet me! I want you to retrieve Tasuki's tessen from wherever you've hidden it and bring it to me. We'll meet in the first clearing in the eastern edge of the Imperial Wood." Mitsukake was pleased with this mandate, killing two, no _three_ birds with one stone: getting Nuriko out into the fresh air, retrieving the tessen, and providing Nuriko with a pleasant surprise that was sure to lift his spirits.

Nuriko looked confused. "Why out there?" he asked.

"Just be there—doctor's orders!" commanded Mitsukake.

Nuriko recognized when he was up against a strength that matched his own, so he nodded in agreement. A thought occurred to him. "Mitsukake?" he asked hesitantly. "Do you think I could see Tasuki for a little while? I haven't seen him since the Star-Gazing Festival…" he choked slightly, then continued. "I mean, I understand that he may not want visitors either, but if I could just go in, sit by his bed, maybe hold his hand…I promise I won't even talk, if he doesn't want me to!"

Mitsukake smiled. "Of course you can—but you have to meet me with the tessen first! Deal?"

"Deal!" said Nuriko, his expression brightening at the thought of offering comfort to the other casualty in this tragedy. In Nuriko's mind, Tasuki had disappeared with a suddenness that reminded him of the loss of his own beloved sister, Kourin. It would do his aching heart good just to see the bandit, if only to reassure himself that Tasuki was still alive. "I'll be there, Mitsukake!"

****

Nuriko stepped into the shadows of the forest, inhaling the spicy scents of fragrant pine and sandalwood along with the scents of green, growing plants and herbs. In spite of his pain, he began to feel his spirits lift slowly, responding to the fresh air and fragrance that surrounded him. Those scents brought back memories of his travels with Hotohori and Miaka to find the three remaining Suzaku seishi; happy times, in spite of the dangers. It was in surroundings like this, on Mount Reikaku, that he'd first encountered Tasuki. He smiled as he recalled the impudence of the young bandit as he stole Miaka right out from under their noses—he and Hotohori had been beside themselves with fury as Genrou had laughed in their faces. What wouldn't he give to hear that taunting, mocking laugh right now? Instead, the best he could hope for was to see Tasuki, probably in a darkened room, and perhaps receive an answering squeeze of his hand.

Nuriko tilted his head to blink back his tears. He looked at the canopy of treetops above him, sunlight streaming through the higher branches, the leaves filtering the light so that it bathed him and the rest of the forest floor in a gentle, greenish glow. _Healing light,_ he thought, _like Mitsukake's spheres. Heal me,_ he prayed silently, _heal this heart so I can be strong for the others…_

He gripped his burden tighter, feeling the diamond sharp edges through the silk that encased it. It had to be a good sign: Mitsukake requesting the tessen to be removed from its hiding place. It had to mean that Tasuki was no longer a danger to himself, a thought that brought a hopeful smile to Nuriko's face. He remembered his confusion when Chichiri had instructed him to hide the tessen in a place where Tasuki would never find it. With those instructions in mind, he had taken the tessen to his old chambers in the heart of the concubine quarters. Tasuki was as likely to invade those ultra-feminine and sacrosanct premises as he was to sprout wings and fly.

Nuriko stepped into an area where the trees thinned yet reached out and joined their branches overhead, forming one large arching canopy which cast green shade on the long grass. A few beams of sunlight, hazy with dancing motes of dust and pollen, dodged around the leaves to stream into the open area. The cool, vaulted dimness of this clearing with its scattered beams of light gave one the feeling of being sequestered in a huge, hushed green temple. Up ahead, a few trees grew thicker together, encircling and almost closing off the shaded clearing. Yet man or nature had cleared out some of the trees in this border, leaving a wide gap like a gateway which then opened out onto a large sunny meadow--the first clearing that Mitsukake had mentioned.

Just then, Nuriko caught the sound of childish laughter high above him. Looking up, he glimpsed movement in the cluster of trees that bordered the gateway between the two clearings like green sentinels. To his utter amazement, he saw Chiriko take flight out of a dense patch of branches in one of the trees, flying out toward the sunny clearing that lay just ahead, then swinging back in the direction from which he had come. _New seishi powers? _Nuriko thought blankly--then almost fell over as Miaka came flying out from the same area, laughing and trying to catch Chiriko's hands. She wore a pink floral outfit of silken pants and a high-collared long-sleeved shirt obviously of Konan origin, instead of her usual uniform from her own world.

Nuriko just stood there utterly dumbfounded until he heard Mitsukake's deeper tones from the ground, calling out warnings and instructions as he pulled on silken ropes which looped over pulleys set high in the sentinel trees. The ropes were attached to previously unnoticed harnesses strapped to Chiriko's and Miaka's bodies. The two youngest members of the Suzaku team were pulled up, still laughing, until they reached the densely woven platform of branches high in one of the sentinel trees.

At that moment, Miaka caught sight of Nuriko staring up at them. "Nuriko!" she shrieked happily. "Nuriko's here!"

Suddenly stepping out from the platform was yet another figure that had gone unnoticed by Nuriko, the deep green and light tan of his garments blending perfectly with the surrounding trees. Nuriko had a brief impression of flames as the figure leapt off the platform, catching hidden lines and spiraling swiftly downward, then kicking off a tree trunk to swing towards Nuriko. He just stood there gaping as the figure flew directly at him. The next thing he knew, he was caught up in a strong embrace and was flying, _flying_ through the air with the wind whistling in his ears. Just before they hit the tree trunks looming up before them, long legs reached out and kicked off the trees yet again.

"Pull 'er up, Mitsukake!" a familiar voice shouted in his ears, then Nuriko felt them ascending, spiraling heavenward as patches of blue sky spun crazily in his vision. They touched down gently on the leafy platform in the trees, as Miaka and Chiriko came running up to them. Nuriko collapsed onto his knees, dimly noticing that the platform was actually made of sturdy wooden planks, the branches serving only as camouflage.

A familiar mocking laugh rang out, and a teasing voice said, "An' _that_, Chiriko, is what is known as a Mount Reikaku aerial ambush!"

Nuriko lifted his head, seeing the beloved fanged grin, the laughing amber eyes, and the fiery hair blown into wild dancing flames by the winds of their flight. "Tasuki?" he gasped in disbelief, then, "_Tasukiiii!"_ he cried, jumping up, grabbing the bandit, and pulling him into a fierce and frantic hug.

Tasuki returned the embrace enthusiastically at first, but after several seconds his arms fell away, and he began to push against Nuriko. "Can't…breathe!" he choked.

Nuriko's eyes widened, and he released Tasuki immediately.

Now it was the bandit's turn to fall to his knees, gasping for air. "Damnit, Nuriko, how many times do I gotta tell ya to watch your own strength? _Shikuso! _I saw my whole life pass before my eyes just now!" He staggered to his feet and went over to lean against one of the trunks.

Nuriko's violet eyes filled with tears as he gazed hungrily at his friend, taking in every detail from the dancing sparks in the amber eyes to the lazy grace as he lounged against the tree.

"Ahhhhh, crap, Nuriko," Tasuki's voice was remorseful. "I didn't mean ta make ya cry! C'mon, stop it now. I'm sorry I yelled at ya, okay? So stop cryin', already!"

"You idiot, Tasuki!" Nuriko was laughing through his tears. "I'm crying because I'm _happy_, alright? I'm just so _glad_ to see you! I missed you so much!" He smiled at his bandit friend. "I was so _worried_ about you--but you look wonderful!"

Tasuki blushed and looked down, embarrassed for a moment that Nuriko obviously knew all, but then remembered his resolve not to be ashamed anymore. He glanced up into Nuriko's eyes, taking his first good look at his friend--and was shocked.

"_I _may look good, but you look like SHIT!" he exclaimed. "What the hell've you been doin' ta yourself?!" He gazed anxiously at Nuriko's pale face with dark circles under the over-bright eyes, his violet-tinted dark hair hanging limply around his face while his clothes hung baggily on his frail frame. "Ya decide to go on a reduce-yourself-to-nothin' diet or somethin'? I thought ya didn't weigh much more than a bird when I picked you up just now! What's up with you, anyway?"

"Tactful as always, Tasuki," Nuriko grumbled. "I'm all right; just a little tired and stressed for the last few days." He flinched as he remembered to whom he was complaining. He looked up timidly into Tasuki's face. "I've been down in the lower levels…with Tamahome…" he said hesitantly.

Tasuki's amber eyes suddenly flashed with pain so raw and intense that Nuriko gasped, feeling as if he were being burned and drowned at the same time. He was shocked to see this expression, now so bitterly familiar in Tamahome's eyes, reflected in eyes that had previously only shone with mischief and joy. He cringed internally, ashamed at thinking that just because Tasuki was walking freely around the forest, it meant that he wasn't suffering as badly as Tamahome. His eyes filled with tears again, this time with empathy for his wounded friend.

Miaka crept up quietly behind Tasuki, placing her hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, reaching his hand up to cover hers, then pulling her hand to his cheek, seeming to draw strength from her touch. Nuriko was surprised at the intimacy of this gesture between the two, although Chiriko seemed to take it in stride.

Tasuki opened his eyes, forcing his pain back, then grinned at Nuriko. "Well, there's only one thing to do when you're feeling like shit! Miaka, can we borrow your harness?" He squinted at Nuriko's frail form. "Although Chiriko's might fit you better now."

"Ne, Tasuki! Stop picking on Nuriko!" scolded Miaka, removing her harness and handing it to him. Tasuki strapped it swiftly around Nuriko's body, adjusting it so that it fit snugly around his chest. Nuriko stood dumbly in front of him, too overcome with his wildly fluctuating emotions to protest.

"Hey, Mitsukake, you ready to work those ropes?" Tasuki shouted down to the forest floor.

"Suuurrre," grumbled the healer. "That's why I went to the trouble of getting medical training—so I could pull on ropes all day. Strained shoulders, pulled arm muscles, that's what I live for."

"Yeah, shuddup, ya know ya love it. Plus remember—there's a tessen around here somewhere that's gettin' rusty from disuse. A certain hard-workin' someone might get the chance to work the kinks out of it."

"I'm holding you to that promise!" Mitsukake shouted back.

"Where is the tessen, anyway? Nuriko?"

Nuriko pointed down to the forest floor, where he had dropped it when Tasuki swooped down on him.

"Okay, since you dropped it..." said Tasuki in a mock threatening tone, advancing on Nuriko once more, "…you gotta go get it!" and he pushed Nuriko off the platform.

"Kyaaahhhhhhhhhh!" screamed Nuriko as he fell, not realizing that Tasuki had jumped with him, holding onto the rope on the back of Nuriko's harness with one hand. The rope pulled taut, stopping their headlong descent and swinging them outward in a wide arc.

"Let's FLY!" shouted Tasuki, wrapping his free arm around Nuriko as they soared upward into the bright sunlight of the meadow. They hung suspended for a moment at the top of the arc, then began to fall backward and down.

"_Kyaaahhhhhhhhhh!"_ shrieked Nuriko, feeling the iron hand of gravity snatching them swiftly back into the shaded clearing.

"C'mon, quit screaming like a girl!" laughed Tasuki, reaching out long legs to kick off the rapidly approaching tree trunks at the edge of the small clearing, launching them back towards the sunlight once again.

"Kyaahhh-aa-ha ha ha _ha_ _ha_!" Nuriko couldn't help laughing with exhilaration as the sensation of flying finally caught him up in its spell. The wind rushing in his face, the dizzying swoops as they rose and fell, the sheer blessed relief of having his dear friend laughing with him, strong and vibrant once again: all these feelings combined in a swell of happiness so huge that Nuriko felt himself break the bonds that tied him to the earth, leaving him to fly unfettered and free.

They flew between heaven and earth, shade and sun, soaring, laughing, exulting in their aerial ballet and the sheer joy of being alive. Finally, after several circuits of the two clearings, Tasuki began to look over Nuriko's shoulder, examining the ground.

"Where d'ya think it is?" he shouted, raising his voice to be heard above the wind whistling around them. Nuriko pointed down at the glimmer of pale silk in the grass of the shaded clearing.

"Okay, Mits, bring us down about fifteen feet!" shouted Tasuki. "I'm gonna pick up the tessen!"

The rope lowered gradually, but they were still too high to reach the tessen. If the rope dropped any further, they would bump along the ground at the bottom of the trajectory.

Tasuki suddenly slipped around Nuriko's body so that they were face-to-face. Nuriko shrieked in surprise. "Girly boy!" teased Tasuki, then wrapped his legs around Nuriko's waist, hooking his feet around the rope. "Hold onto my belt!"

Nuriko, confused by their weird position in midair, numbly obeyed Tasuki's order.

"Mits!" Tasuki shouted. "Lower us two feet when I say 'Down', then bring us up again two seconds later! Got it?"

"Your every wish is my command, oh master!" shouted the doctor sarcastically.

As they skimmed over the shaded grass, Tasuki suddenly shouted "Down!" He then released his grip on Nuriko's shoulders and hung upside down.The rope dropped sharply, enabling him to reach out and snatch up the tessen. "Whoo-hoo!" he shouted in victory, then coughed as Mitsukake jerked the rope up again.

Tasuki flipped himself up to grab at Nuriko's shoulders again, then scrambled to assume his previous position. Pulling the silk off the tessen, he shoved the diamond fan into the waiting holster at his back. "Got my baby back..." he crooned.

Nuriko rolled his eyes, grimacing as he was elbowed and jabbed as Tasuki tried to get comfortable again. "Watch it, fang-boy!" he growled. "I'm not your damn horse!"

"Yeah, so whatcha gonna do about it?" mocked Tasuki, wrapping Nuriko's long braid around his free hand. "I knew all this hair would be useful for somethin'--Gee UP!" he shouted, tugging on Nuriko's braid as they fell back from the sunlight once more.

"All right, that's it!" snarled Nuriko. "Nuriko Always Wreaks Revenge!" he cried as they swung back into the shaded clearing. Reaching his legs out ahead of Tasuki's, he kicked off the trees, his strength sending them rocketing back through the shaded clearing as if they had been shot from a cannon.

_"Gaahhhhhhhh!"_ screamed Tasuki.

Nuriko turned to laugh up into his face. "Who's screaming like a girl _now_?" he taunted.

Tasuki's eyes widened in terror and he began to shriek, "Tree, _tree_, _TREE!_" Nuriko had pushed them off their usual trajectory, so they were now headed straight for one of the sentinel trees next to the gateway.

"Yipp!" shrieked Nuriko and threw up a gauntleted arm just as they impacted the tree, snapping the trunk in two, the falling crown of the tree making way for their Nuriko-propelled blast into the sunlight. The rope jerked hard at the top of the arc, yanking them back toward the shaded clearing.

"Rope...can't take...this _stress_!" gasped Tasuki.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than they felt another sharp tug on the line. Looking up, they saw that nearly all of the strands of the rope had snapped, leaving them hanging by a single thread. Just then, the last thread snapped and they fell...

_"Gaahhhhhhh!"_

_"Kyaaahhhhh!_

...a total distance of six feet onto the forest floor, landing in a tangle of limbs.

"Oof!" said Nuriko, somehow managing to land on top of Tasuki. A stream of curses issued from beneath him, muffled by the long grass. Childish laughter rippled through the upper branches of the trees as Miaka and Chiriko peered down from the platform. Mitsukake strolled casually into the clearing and untangled the two aerialists, pulling them to their feet. Tasuki was still cursing, the effect somewhat diminished by the fact that he was spitting out grass.

"You can thank Suzaku and _me _that I was keeping a close watch on you!" scolded Mitsukake. "I knew that it was only a matter of time before you two jokers pulled some life-threatening stunt! I lowered the rope to shorten your fall, just in time as it turned out!"

Tasuki finally spat out the last blade of grass. "It was _his_ fault!" he said defensively, pointing at Nuriko.

"Oh, yeah? Well, you _started_ it!" retorted Nuriko, glaring back at Tasuki.

"Children, children," reproved Mitsukake. "Make up and play nice, or I won't let you play together anymore." He sighed. "I seem to be doing this a lot lately. So much for the formidable Suzaku Seven. We're really going to intimidate the daylights out of the Seiryuu warriors with our terrifying hair-pulling spats."

Tasuki and Nuriko tried to continue glaring at each other but were having trouble keeping their faces straight.

Nuriko broke first, snorting with laughter. "You should have seen your face, Gen-chan!"

"Yeah, well, you weren't exactly Mr. Cool-and-Collected yourself!" mocked Tasuki good-naturedly. "Tree-murderer!"

"Hey, I saved your ass with that move!"

"Yeah, and your own as well--and only after you put us in danger in the first place!"

"Yeah, so..." Nuriko faltered. Unable to think up a suitable retort, he stuck out his tongue and pulled down on one eye.

"Ooooohhh, that hurts! Save me, Mitsukake!" Tasuki cried out in a falsetto and ducked behind Mitsukake as Nuriko threw a half-hearted punch.

"All right, punishment time," declared Mitsukake. "You," grabbing Tasuki and shoving him towards the platform, "climb up under your own power and help the other two. And _you!_" he snagged Nuriko as the purple-haired seishi tried to sneak away. "It's _your_ turn to work the ropes!"

"Hey, Mits, you wanna try flying?" offered Tasuki.

"Oh, right, like I'm really going to place my life in the hands of you two. Forget it! I like myself with all my limbs in their current orientation, thank you very much!"

"Wuss!" mumbled Tasuki as he walked past Nuriko.

"Wimp!" agreed Nuriko.

"Hey, I _heard_ that!"

****

Nuriko breathed deeply as he pulled on the ropes, finally releasing one of the silken cords once Tasuki had touched down with Chiriko in the shaded clearing. They'd made several flights as Tasuki taught Chiriko how to swoop down on unsuspecting victims. Nuriko could picture the impressive sight of twenty or more of the Mt. Reikaku bandits dropping out of the trees like avenging angels. No wonder they'd had such a formidable reputation! By the time their victims would've recovered their breaths, the bandits would be long gone with all their loot. Of course, the bandits hadn't seemed so impressive when Nuriko had first encountered them—but at that time, they were still under the incompetent leadership of that imbecile Eiken. However, with Tasuki in charge, they could be a criminal force to be reckoned with. Nuriko shook his head at the thought of a Suzaku seishi robbing the worthy citizens of Konan. Hopefully, Tasuki would lose interest in his bandit career by the time they all returned from their quest to summon Suzaku.

Nuriko stretched, arching his back and rolling his shoulders. It felt good to be active again, to feel the pull of his muscles as they flexed and released, the adrenaline flowing through his veins, making him feel alive again. He realized that the forced inactivity of his imprisonment with Tamahome was contributing to his depression and sense of hopelessness. Right then, he resolved to get himself moving around in the prison, even if it was just doing stretches and lifting weights—although he wasn't quite sure what Tamahome would think when he saw Nuriko hopping around. Maybe Tamahome would join him… Nuriko's eyes brightened with hope as he watched Tasuki climb confidently up to the platform. If Tasuki could make such strides in recovering, perhaps Tamahome could do the same. _Suzaku willing! _Nuriko prayed silently.

He shaded his eyes to focus on the two figures still remaining on the platform. "Are we done yet?" he shouted up to Tasuki, who was adjusting Miaka's harness snugly around her.

"Just one more!" Tasuki shouted back.

Mitsukake strolled up, placing a hand on Nuriko's shoulder. "I'll take care of this; you take a break now, okay?"

Nuriko nodded, looking forward to watching Tasuki fly one more time without being distracted by the ropes. Tasuki waved at Mitsukake to show that they were ready, then placing one arm around Miaka's waist and holding onto the rope with the other, he launched them out into the open air.

Miaka laughed with glee as they swung out into the slanting rays of the descending sun. Tasuki's arm held her clasped firmly against his body as they flew together through sunlight and shadow. His lips moved next to her ear as he murmured something softly to her, and she laughed out loud again.

Nuriko was struck yet again at the intimacy between the two—and at how _right_ they looked with each other. The smile left his face as he realized what he was seeing, his heart sinking as he thought of Tamahome. 'Tama truly has lost everything,' he thought sadly. 'His self-respect, his seishi powers, and now Miaka… I know that I don't have the heart to tell him about this.' Nuriko closed his eyes in pain, not wishing Tasuki and Miaka ill, but just wishing that it didn't have to be.

Suddenly he felt a comforting hand laid on his arm. He opened his eyes to see Chiriko's young face gazing up at him, the sunlight tinting his chestnut hair with pinkish highlights.

"We can neither choose who we love, nor who loves us." Chiriko's voice was earnest, compassionate. "You of all people should understand this, Nuriko."

Nuriko lowered his eyes in acknowledgement.

"But the fact that love exists at all, that it can be brought forth from a situation of such darkness and pain— his is reason enough for celebration, no matter what the consequences may be. Love itself is a jewel beyond price, and we must treasure it wherever and whenever we find it. We must also believe that love exists for a reason, that its meaning will be made clear to us as time goes on and imparts to us her wisdom."

Nuriko felt the truth and wisdom in Chiriko's reassurances reverberate inside of him. He secreted the words in his heart, to be examined and marveled over in the dark, quiet times of his life. Chiriko's words brought to mind not only Tasuki, Miaka, and Tamahome, but also himself and Hotohori and Kourin, and all those who he held close to his heart.

His eyes softened in gratitude, and he squeezed Chiriko's little hand. "Thank you, Chiriko," he said huskily. "Your words comfort me and bring me peace."

Chiriko looked up into the bright violet eyes of his fellow seishi. "You are my brother. What better use for my learning than to help the ones I love most?"

Nuriko bent and scooped Chiriko into his arms for a brief, gentle hug.

Tasuki and Miaka had landed safely and were still laughing as they removed her harness. Mitsukake walked around the clearing, winding up ropes. Chiriko took Nuriko's hand, waving goodbye to the others, as Nuriko turned to begin his journey back to the darkness where Tamahome awaited him.

When they reached the east lawn of the palace, Chiriko stopped at the edge of the forest and squeezed Nuriko's hand. He turned to face Nuriko and spoke again. "He doesn't hate Tamahome; you needn't fear that. He just needs to recover a little more, to grow a little stronger. Then maybe his love for Tamahome will overcome his pain, and he will be able to face his brother again. You must have faith, Nuriko."

Nuriko smiled at his littlest brother. "I do, Chiriko."

As he turned and headed back across the green velvet expanse, the late afternoon sunlight shimmered on his form, making it appear to glow and dance. This time, the figure lifted his arms up to the light and danced along with the sunbeams, letting hope flow into his heart once again.

*******

*******

**Author's Note: (2-10-02)** Sentimental, ne? I can't help it--I just felt that Nuriko really needed to fly. Now we need to rescue Tamahome...but when? Teeeeeeeease!

This was also my attempt at getting a few more visual descriptions of settings into this fic. I had noticed this fault before, especially after reading some of _your_ work. So I started writing this chapter a couple of weeks ago, but some constructive criticism helped me take an even closer look at my style (Thanks, Chao-chan! All help is much appreciated! ) So did it work - or did I fall short? (Author falls screaming off the aerial ambush platform as Tasuki watches dispassionately and kicks the rope after her.)

Okay, here we go. (takes deep breath) The next chapter contains...well, I don't really understand the distinctions of the citrus system (lime, lemon? oranges? _grapefruit_?!) so I'll just spell it out in plain language. Chapter 10, Enchantment, contains serious erotica, as in Ser-i-ous E-rot-i-ca. I don't wish to offend any of my faithful readers, so I thought that I would give you a warning: if this sort of thing bothers you, either skip Chapter 10 altogether, or at least the third section of it. But if you made it through Chapters 1-3...well, make your own decisions. You know my style by now - not explicit, but you _will _know what's happening.

**Author's Note II: (2-11-02)**. I wrote the previous author's note last night, so that's why it's so light-hearted. I just received some bad news this morning: my friend Ralph passed away Friday, February 8. He was a gentle soul who had been born with spina bifida and was confined to a wheelchair for most of his life. I have faith, so I know where he is right now—running, leaping, soaring, laughing now that he has shed the iron chains that shackled him to this earth. This chapter is dedicated to you, my gentle friend: be happy, forever flying, forever free.


	12. Chapter 10 Enchantment

The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Musical selection: Soundtrack from "Princess Mononoke," by Joe Hisaishi, Track 5, "Land of the Impure" and Track 6, "Encounter", copyright Milan Records and BMG, 1999.  


Warning: Serious erotica in this chapter - true "R" rated material. Please do not read if you are underage or find sexual situations offensive.  
  


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**CHAPTER 10:   Enchantment **   ( Miaka, Tasuki )  
  


She walked through the Imperial woods, admiring the beauty of the afternoon sun shining through the leaves, allying itself with the breeze to create dancing, dappled spots of light on the path before her. She breathed in the intoxicating scent of the forest, its vibrant essence reminding her of the fragrance of his skin. She knew that he was in here somewhere; in the absence of his beloved mountains, he found comfort in the familiar terrain of trees and ferns, winding paths muffled by fallen leaves, quiet pools reflecting occasional glimpses of sky. She also knew that she had almost no chance of finding him if he did not wish to be found; he was a creature of the forest and could escape silently between the trees before she ever registered his presence. It didn't trouble her - she realized that he needed time alone to think. She, too, needed to think, and the quiet serenity of the forest helped her to gather her thoughts. So she was content to walk the paths that he had walked earlier, gently hoping to encounter him but not feeling any urgency to track him down and capture him.

Miaka smiled at the changes that had occurred in her over the past few days. No longer was she the flighty girl who ran through Konan, crying out, "Tamahome, Tamahome!" The earth-shaking events of several days ago had forced her to mature, to think before speaking, before acting. Everyone was easily wounded in this time of turmoil and confusion, and the two men closest to her heart were the two most fragile at this time. The thought of Tamahome made the smile leave her face. She knew that he was probably suffering, and her heart ached to comfort him as she had Tasuki...but he was adamant in his refusal to see her. Nuriko was firm in denying her access to Tamahome, explaining that he was honor-bound to obey Tamahome's wishes if he was to retain the young seishi's trust. Even after yesterday's frolic in the woods, which had helped ease some of the tension between miko and seishi that had been created by Nuriko's constant refusals to Miaka, Nuriko still stood firm against Miaka this morning.

"Please don't make me choose between my friends, Miaka," the young seishi had pleaded. Miaka yielded to the pain in her friend's violet eyes. Her new-found sensitivity made her realize that she could do more harm than good if she forced a confrontation with Tamahome, so she acquiesced gracefully, only asking Nuriko to tell Tamahome that she was worried about him. She felt a little better that at least Tamahome wasn't completely alone in his darkness - he had Nuriko to lean on. 

Maybe it was for the best that she not see him right now. What if he looked into her eyes and saw the change in her heart? What if he saw that there was another man occupying her thoughts and her dreams, another man who was becoming more important to her each passing day? Miaka shook her head in confusion. She didn't understand her _own_ feelings; how could she explain them to Tamahome? She knew that she still loved him – she ached at his suffering, and she missed him deeply – but at the same time, her traitorous heart quickened at the thought of her new love. Did falling in love with someone new mean that you were supposed to immediately stop loving or caring about your previous love? She didn't know. If she were to define her emotions, Miaka would say that her love for Tamahome had not diminished, but rather that her heart had grown. But she was sure he wouldn't see it that way. It was an explanation that sounded weak even to her own ears, and she knew that one day, inevitably, she would have to make a choice. 

But what would be the deciding factor in that choice? Would she make her choice based on her head and her heart – or would it be driven by feelings more basic, more visceral? Miaka lifted her face to gaze at the branches above her, letting the gentle breeze cool her suddenly flushed cheeks. She blushed at her realization of a part of her nature that she had never given much thought to, the part driven by passion and desire. She knew that she was impulsive, sometimes reckless, and she totally indulged her passionate side when it came to food. But that had been a part of her behavior that had earned as many laughs as admonitions from her friends and family. She doubted that they would be laughing if they knew where her passions were leading her now…

Miaka had felt desire before – how could she not, being in love with someone as handsome and heroic as Tamahome? She had longed for him, craving his kisses and the feel of his body pressed against her…it was not for nothing that Taiitsukun had warned her against their closeness. Yet even then, she had remembered who she was and what role she had to play in this world. These responsibilities, combined with her natural timidity about the novel sensations that Tamahome had aroused in her, had enabled her to maintain control over her desires - a difficult undertaking, but not impossible. But what she felt now for Tasuki was deeper, darker, almost frightening in its intensity…

Miaka paused, looking around at the trees that surrounded her. She had now wandered further into the woods than she had ever gone before. The sounds of the palace activities had died away long ago, left far behind. Now she heard only birdsong and the sigh of the wind in the boughs above her. The fragrance of the forest grew thicker, more intoxicating, and she breathed deeply, hoping to calm her pounding heart. She looked down to an intersection of several paths which led in many directions – then deliberately chose the path that led directly away from the palace, deeper into the heart of the forest. Her pace picking up to match the turbulence of her thoughts, Miaka plunged into the unknown.

She had boasted about her self-control to Tasuki...to cover up for her dangerous lack of control around him. _Why_ was she like this? She was raised to know better, to _behave_ better! Why, then, did his closeness make her forget her upbringing, her responsibilities, her modesty…her very _self_?! What was it about this fiery bandit that ignited an answering fire in her? This was dangerous – she _knew_ it was dangerous! She would have to put distance between them as she had with Tamahome…and the first thing she had to do was to stop sleeping with Tasuki!

Miaka gave a little snort of laughter at how that sounded. But sleeping was all they did in the bed together. Tasuki did not press her for intimacies, but then again, he had not fully recovered from his trauma. Going to sleep together at night was fun, light-hearted: they would argue about who stole the blankets, have impromptu pillow fights, and generally bicker like siblings, ending up falling asleep while calling each other "baka". Late in the night, when he cried out in the throes of his nightmares, she would awaken and soothe him back to sleep.   


That was not the difficult part.   


It was the early mornings that tried her, body and soul. She would awaken when the first rays of the sun crept into his room, and blink open sleepy eyes to watch the early light catch the fire of his hair. She would feel his arms around her and his body pressed close, and see his face looking impossibly young and innocent with his features relaxed in sleep. That was when desire would begin to hum within her. She would reach out to touch his sunlit hair, just to prove to herself that it was soft and not crackling with flames as it appeared. He would smile in his sleep, draw her closer, move gently against her, and then…then she would pull away carefully and run to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, her desire for him having risen from a quiet hum to a demanding scream.

This _had_ to stop! She would tell him tonight…after all, his nightmares were diminishing even as her daydreams were increasing…

Caught up in her thoughts, Miaka had not noticed how deeply she had penetrated into the heart of the forest. Suddenly she found herself at the edge of a large forest pool, the serenity of the surroundings enhanced by the quiet burbling of the little stream that fed into the pond. She marveled at the arching canopy of branches that met above the water, casting most of the pool into shadow, broken here and there to admit individual beams of light. It reminded her of the shaded clearing that they had played in yesterday, but this place was larger, more mysterious... and it was _magic_! This place was _completely_ magical, and right now, it was hers alone! She laughed softly to herself in delight and bent to dabble her fingers in the water. It was clear as a diamond and just as cold - not surprising since the nights in Konan were growing chilly, and this pool obviously did not get much sunlight during the day. She was a little disappointed that it was far too cold for her to enjoy a swim, but she promised herself that she would come back when the weather was warmer. In the meantime, she could just enjoy the beauty and magic of this spot until it was time for her to return to the palace.

She retreated up the sloping bank, looking around for the most suitable place to sit, when a flash of movement on the opposite bank caught her eye. She stood still and held her breath, hoping to catch a glimpse of a deer or some other wild creature. But as the creature moved silently in the shadows, at times partially breaking through a sunbeam, she gasped in shock.   


It was a forest spirit! Although human in shape, it moved with unearthly grace and silence. As it stepped delicately into the water, she caught glimpses of the long, lean lines of its unclothed body shimmering palely in the greenish forest light. She had learned about spirits from the fairy tales that her mother had told her as a child. However, this creature most resembled beings from a foreign story that she had read last year. It was a story written by an Englishman about a mythical land in which lived a race of magical beings called elves. Although she had never finished the books which comprised the story, she had been fascinated by the description of the beautiful, forest-loving elves.

This enchanting creature _had_ to be an elf - it fit the description perfectly! Tall, graceful, mysterious... in the Universe of the Four Gods, it was not impossible to encounter mythical beings. As she watched it move through another sunbeam, she caught her breath at its golden beauty. She also noticed that it was unmistakably male, but she didn't blush, instead admiring him as she would a wild stag. 

He scooped water into his cupped hands and poured it over his body, not flinching at the frigid temperature of the water. Miaka could only catch glimpses of him, since he stayed shyly in the shallow water at the shadowed far edge of the pool, probably ready to flee into the forest at the slightest disturbance. But he suddenly grew bolder, venturing hesitantly yet gracefully deeper into the pool, stopping when the water reached his waist. Here he splashed himself with a little more vigor, sending droplets of water flying through the beams of light like diamonds.   


Enchanted by the dreamlike quality of the scene, Miaka moved forward to get a better look at him - then accidentally slipped down the bank, crashing loudly into view. The creature whirled around at the sound, his features breaking into a beam of sunlight at his sudden movement. Miaka had a brief impression of sharp elven features, slanted golden eyes, and wild golden hair before he vanished from her sight with a splash. Disappointed, Miaka stared at the spot where he had been, saddened by the abrupt ending to the magical interlude.

Suddenly, the water exploded as her elf reappeared next to the spot where she had last seen him, flailing wildly in the deep drop-off. "SHIT!" he screamed. "GOD_DAMMIT!_" before disappearing beneath the surface once again.

Miaka stood frozen in shock for a few more seconds until her brain kicked in, and she realized that he wasn't reappearing on his own. Kicking off her shoes, she dove into the pool and swam frantically toward the area where she had last seen him. Diving under the surface, she felt around in panic, cursing the darkness of the shadowed waters. Luckily, she brushed against soft strands of hair waving in the water. Seizing his hair, she dragged him to the surface, then pulled him up onto the grassy bank of the far shore. Placing him in a beam of sunlight so that she could see him clearly, she rolled him over onto his back and pressed on his chest. He immediately coughed up a huge quantity of pond water and began gasping for air. He stared up at her, the concentrated light of the sunbeam turning his eyes and skin to gold and accentuating the golden highlights in his fiery hair.  


"Without a doubt," he gasped, "this has got to be the _worst_ fucking week of my _LIFE!_"

  
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Miaka knelt beside him, panting from her exertions, her heart hammering from the close call they had had. Meanwhile, he continued to rant. "First, I get turned into the boy-toy of some _hentai_ mononoke, who decides to use the body of one of my best friends to do the deed! That's sure to make all interactions a real treat from now on. Next I learn about all kinds of fun after-effects I'll have to deal with, probably for _life!_ _Then_, when I'm in the middle of the woods thinking I'm _completely_ alone, the woman I love decides to _jump_ out at me, damn near giving me a heart attack and scaring me into a deep hole in the water, where I damn near _DROWN!_ What the _FUCK?!_ Is it _"Kick Tasuki"_ week in the great celestial calendar, or _WHAT?!_"

Miaka continued to stare at him, trying to reconcile in her mind the transformation of the silent magical creature of a few minutes ago into the infuriated, cursing bandit she loved. Did he perhaps have other seishi powers he never told her about? Could he transform himself at will? No, she was being ridiculous, her brain short-circuiting due to the successive shocks in the last few minutes.

Tasuki was getting unnerved by her blank stare. "What?! What's goin' on?! What were you doin' spyin' on me?"

Miaka finally shook herself out of her trance. "I wasn't spying on you, Tasuki. I didn't realize it was you."

He glared at her. "So you make a habit of peeping on strange men bathing in the forest. Real nice, Miaka..."

"No, no, Tasuki. I didn't even recognize you as human..."

His eyes widened. "Well, thanks a lot! Thanks one whole _HELL_ of a lot for that one, Miaka! Good uppercut to the self-esteem there... mmmph!"

Miaka had grabbed him by his ears and planted a kiss on his lips. She stayed there until she felt him tentatively return the kiss, at which point she released him. 

"What was that for?" he panted.

"To shut you up so that I could get a word in edgewise! Gee, Tasuki, usually you don't get on my nerves, but right now you could drive a miko to drink!" She regretted her words when he pulled away from her and hung his head. "I'm sorry, Tasuki, I know that I'm not explaining myself clearly, but _I've_ just had a sudden dunk in cold water, too. I'm hoping that you'll cut me a break about startling you, because I did save your life after all." Miaka frowned, only now thinking about what happened. "By the way, why didn't you save yourself?"

He was completely turned away from her, his back to her, knees up to his chin. She heard him mumble something into his knees.

"What was that? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you, Tasuki."

He looked over his shoulder at her. "I said that I can't swim. So go ahead and laugh at me now..."

"Why would I laugh at you? In my world, there are many people that don't know how to swim. But they generally avoid water. If you can't swim, why were you in this pond?"

He blushed and turned back again. "I just felt like it...felt like I needed to get clean. Mitsukake said that I would get these weird urges to do stuff like that, and that I should just do what I felt like doing as long as it didn't hurt anybody..." he trailed off.

Miaka winced internally at the now familiar pain in her heart that appeared each time she watched him struggle to recover from his trauma. There was silence between them for a minute, then she remembered what she had been going to say.   


"Tasuki, when I said that I didn't recognize you before, it was the truth. This place is so magical that I thought that I had stumbled into a dream! Then I caught a glimpse of you from across the pool. You looked too beautiful to be real! You were all golden in the sunbeams, moving so gracefully and silently, that I thought you were a mythical creature called an elf..."

She smiled as she saw the tension leave his shoulders and his posture straighten. He was endearingly susceptible to compliments - probably because he so rarely received any.

"A... neff?" he asked, stumbling over the strange foreign word.

"No, an_ elf_. Elves are mythical creatures which love forests and are known for their grace and beauty. That's what I mistook you for..."

He grinned at her over his shoulder, showing his fangs. "If you keep calling me beautiful, I'm gonna think you liiiiiike me!" he teased.

Suddenly, she felt something deep inside her turn over at the sight of his smile... and his body. Yes, she had seen him like this a few nights ago, but he had been badly hurt. Even then, she had been unable to resist him. Now he was healed and perfect and...right in front of her.   


Miaka felt the fire ignite in her once again, a passion beyond any she had ever felt before, burning up any inhibitions that she had, burning up any thought of Suzaku, Konan, the Shinzaho... Gone were all thoughts of distance, separation, self-control; all burnt to ashes in the blazing inferno of her desire. This passion was elemental, primal. She no longer _felt_ desire - she _was_ Desire itself. All she knew was that she had to have him _now!_

Tasuki stopped smiling when he saw the smile leave her face and the strangest expression enter her eyes. It was the same sort of expression the bandits wore when they were about to embark on a very dangerous raid, a sort of "burning one's bridges" attitude.

Slowly, she untied her dripping necktie, then removed her jacket. As she began to unbutton her blouse, Tasuki felt he had to say _something_. "Miaka?"

"My clothes are soaking wet," she said huskily, shaking her dripping hair out of its bonds. "They're making me cold..."

He felt guilty, remembering that she had jumped into the pond to save him. "Wait here, Miaka, I'll get my shirt for you..."

"No," she interrupted, kicking off her skirt, and walking over to him. "I don't want your shirt – I want _you!_"

He froze in place, stunned at her boldness. Swiftly, she stooped to kiss him, pulling off the last of her undergarments. Then she climbed into his lap, still kissing him, running her fingers through his damp hair. Tasuki couldn't help himself; he pulled her even closer with a wolfish growl. She was everything he had ever wanted, and she was right here, wanting _him!_ He caressed her curves and nipped at her neck with his fangs, as she moaned and rubbed against him. He reveled in the feeling of her skin brushing against his... she was so soft, velvet and satin whispering against him, teasing him, tempting him...

He felt himself pushing towards her, not caring anymore, not caring about anyone else - not Konan, not Suzaku, not his friends... His friends...his fellow seishi...his _brothers_... Suddenly he stopped, lifting her away from him. She gazed at him in surprise, her emerald eyes still clouded with passion.

"We can't do this, Miaka, you know we can't!"

She lowered her eyes, flushing with shame. "I'm sorry, Tasuki, I don't know what came over me. I only felt that I couldn't resist you any longer..." Her voice broke, and she caught her breath.

He could have wept with frustration and knew that she felt the same, judging by her clenched fists and the tears in her eyes. He couldn't imagine a more aggravating situation, both of them needing each other so much! He couldn't _imagine_... Suddenly he heard an echo of Mitsukake's voice in his head '...you must have _some_ imaginative capabilities...' 

He turned to Miaka, smiling seductively. He reached out a hand and wiped away her tears. "Don't cry, Miaka. We've only just started."

"But you know that we can't do that!" she whimpered. 

"That's right, we can't do that. But we can do this..." he purred, pushing her back onto the warm, sunlit grass.  
  


  
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"Tasuki!" Her voice was urgent, passionate, breathless.   


He smiled for a moment, then continued, feeling her fingers tighten in his hair.   


"Genrou!" she gasped.   


_'Yes,'_ he thought, _'Almost there...'_   


"Ohhhhh, GODS! _SHUN'U!_" she cried out, her body convulsing, her thighs tightening around him.   


He held her, held her... feeling her tremble in his grasp, letting her sweetness fill all of his senses until he breathed her into himself. He released her gently, then shifted upward to wrap his arms around her waist, the crimson glow of his "wing" symbol reflecting softly on her skin. He could feel her shivers gradually diminish, and was content to wait for her to return to him.

She felt as if she had been swept up in a giant tidal wave which tumbled her over and over in a sea of pleasure, finally crashing down to leave her stranded on a golden shore with her lover still wrapped around her. Slowly, she felt the waters recede, felt her breath return. The images were so clear in her mind that she was surprised upon opening her eyes to see green leaves above her instead of blue ocean sky. Her hands were still tangled in her lover's hair, so she began to caress the fiery locks, loving the feeling of his head resting on her belly. Feeling a strange vibration against her skin, she recognized the familiar tune of a Konan love song and realized that he was humming to himself.

"What are you doing?" she asked, amused. 

"Oh, you're back already." He smiled up at her. "I'm just thinking..."

"Thinking what?"

"Thinking that I'm the luckiest man in the whole universe!"

"Oh, so you think you're lucky, huh. I suppose you think that you couldn't be happier than you are right now?"

"Yep!" he grinned smugly.

"Well, let me show you how wrong you are, Shun'u." Her eyes were smoldering with passion. "How very wrong..." she murmured, pulling out of his embrace and pushing him gently onto his back.  
   
   


   
A short while later...  
   
   


   
He gasped desperately for air, tears starting in his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest and his body shaking violently. 'I can't believe it!' he raged silently to himself. 'Not now, not _NOW!' _

"Shhh, Tasuki, it's alright. Just cup your hands over your nose and mouth... Okay, now breathe in, out...slower - breathe now..."

Gradually he felt his pulse and breathing slow, his trembling cease - but the tears of frustration wouldn't stop. "When is this humiliation ever going to _end_?!" he cried out in despair. "When will I ever stop getting these... these..."

"Panic attacks," Miaka said calmly, pulling him close and rubbing his back. "It's only been a few days, Tasuki - you can't really expect to be fully recovered by now."

"Why not?" he grumbled. "Here I am in the middle of the woods with a beautiful woman who wants me, and I can't even be a man!"

"Hush, Tasuki, it was my fault; I moved too quickly, grabbed you too suddenly..."

"I _liked_ it," he protested. "But then I had to go and ruin it all..."

"Not true." She tilted his chin up and smiled into his eyes. "It could only be ruined if I decided to give up...and I haven't."

He felt his heart rate pick up...then closed his eyes in despair as the trembling began again.

"Now listen, Tasuki... listen carefully. _You_ are in control here. Nothing happens unless you say so. If you say go, I go... and if you say stop, I stop _immediately_. We'll go ahead and practice stopping and going, and I'll move very slowly, very gently. It will be different, I promise you..."

"Which one of us is supposed to be the virgin here, anyway?" he grumbled.

"We both are - now, after all that's happened to us, after passing through the flames, we, like Suzaku, are reborn. So let's discover each other... slowly."  
   
   
   
   
   
Time passed.  
   
   
   


   
"Miaka!" he cried out, urgently. 

She stopped immediately, looking up into his eyes. "Stop?" she asked. 

"No!" he gasped. "I mean yes!... no! I mean...I'm close!" 

"Good." 

"Wait!" he groaned. "You don't understand..."

"Yes, I do. You're the one who doesn't understand... I _want_ you," she breathed huskily. "_All_ of you."  
   
   
At that, he felt the last of his control desert him, his seishi symbol blazing with the crimson light of passion. As she continued to weave her magical web of sensation around his body, he felt a powerful rush lift him up. "Miaka... Miaka, I love you..." he breathed, his words a prayer to his priestess. Some small part of his consciousness tried to pull him away from her, but she grasped his hips, refusing to release him.   


"Miaka... _OH!" _he cried out in ecstasy, releasing, exploding, falling through the sparkling darkness... feeling himself scattered between the stars. Yet he remained aware of his lover staying with him, part of him, until finally she released him and pulled herself up to his chest.   


To his complete surprise, she joined him in his heaven, trembling and sighing, her hips rocking gently against his. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her fragrant hair, and they remained like that, two lovers entwined, until the sun descended behind the trees, covering them in shadow.  
  


  
   
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Author's Note: (2-18-02) ......Wellllll.....ahem (blush)....Let's just leave the lovers alone for now, shall we? 

First and most importantly, I would like to thank all of you for your kind and sensitive condolences on the death of my friend, and your generous offers of a shoulder to cry on, if needed. Thank you!! I love you all! You know, up until now, I had no idea that the community of anime and fanfic lovers was such a warm and wonderful group of people. I feel privileged to be able to communicate with you, and I consider you my dear friends. So thank you again – I can't say it enough! XXOO, GLOMP!!

Oh! I almost forgot! I wanted to explain Miaka's mistaken impression of Tasuki when she first sees him in the forest pool. No, it's not based on Legolas from the Lord of the Rings - at least not directly. I had read LotR many, many,...ummm, all right, quite a few years ago, LONG before there was any thought of turning it into a non-cartoon movie. The descriptions of the elves stuck in my head (as they probably do in everyone else's head). When my dear sister (Chichiri's Girl) gave the FY anime series to my mom a little over a year ago, I didn't have a real clear idea of what the series was about, except that she said it was about two girls who get drawn into an alternate universe of Ancient China. My mom had been watching the series for a few weeks, but I hadn't seen it yet.   


I walked into Mom's house one evening, and the episode of FY that was on the television was the one where Tasuki rescues Miaka and company from the zombies in Choko. All I saw at first were the zombies (Ewww, gross! I said) then all these flames, then....HIM! Whoa, I thought, checking out the wild red hair, the slanted eyes and the very elven pointed face, not to mention all the cool jewelry...  


"Who's he?!" I asked excitedly. "Is he an elf or something?," thinking that he looked like something out of Tolkien.   


My mother fixed me with an inscrutable Japanese look. "No," she said.   


"Is he magic, like a magician?"  


"No," replied Mom.   


That's Mom, succinct as always. I knew that I was going to have to watch the series to get any answers about that two-dimensional celluloid_ babe_, so that's how I got hooked on Fushigi Yuugi - it was Tasuki, right from the start, love at first sight.

And one last thing - there are two epilogues to this chapter, but when I calculated the size of this chapter with the epilogues, it had expanded to more than 8300 words. So I decided to post only Chapter 10 today, and I'll post the epilogues at the end of the week. Okey-dokey? Anyway, the epilogues are in a somewhat different mood from Chapter 10 - but not entirely. ^ ~

  
  



	13. Epilogue to Chapter 10 White Stones

The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

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**Chapter 10, Epilogue I. White Stones** (Tasuki, Miaka)

"Found them!" His voice was triumphant as he held her shoes aloft in one hand and his gently burning tessen in the other.

"Yatta!" Her delighted reply drifted across the water from the opposite bank of the pool.

He made his way back to her side, boots crunching on the leaves and stones strewn across the path. The sun had just set, twilight bringing shadows to darken their secret refuge, forcing them to leave it behind and begin their journey to rejoin the real world. The tessen's light reflected off his silk shirt and velvet tunic--which were wrapped around Miaka, her clothes being too cold and damp to wear. Luckily, she was so much smaller than him that his clothes reached to the same length as her uniform skirt, covering her decently.

Tasuki knelt before her, the belts of the tessen holster crossing his bare chest before slinging low across his hips.

Miaka frowned at him in concern. "Are you sure you're warm enough?"

He grinned at her. "Yeah, I'm fine--and at least _I_ got the pants! C'mon, gimme those little feet." He caressed each instep before slipping it into her shoe, making her giggle in delight.

"Cinderella...a bit underdressed, but then so is the prince!" she snickered.

"Huh?"

"Never mind; it's just a dumb joke. Refers to a fairy tale from my world about a servant girl who disguises herself as a princess to go to a, um, festival to meet the prince. He falls in love with her, but she runs away and leaves her shoe behind--"

"Yeah, I know that one! He searches for her by looking for the girl whose foot fits into the fur slipper."

She looked at him strangely, surprised that he would know the story--and surprised at his version. "No, Tasuki, it's not a fur slipper; it's a _glass_ slipper."

"A glass slipper? Whoever heard of a stupid fuckin' thing like glass shoes? Not even His Highness the Emperor of Doofus Shoes would wear glass slippers; they'd shatter and cut his pwecious widdle feet. I'm tellin' ya that it's fur slippers!"

"Come on, Tasuki, think about it. How would it look to go to a festival with big fuzzy shoes? It's _glass _slippers!"

"No, it's _fur_, I tell ya! The story comes from someplace cold, like Hokkan or somethin', and it's _fur _slippers!"

"Glass!"

"Fur!"

"Glass!"

"Fur!"

"Fur!"

"Glass!"

"Gotcha!" she yelled in triumph. "You said glass! You said glass!" She wriggled in delight as she taunted him.

Tasuki swiftly propped the gently flaming tessen against a rock, then let out a wolflike howl, startling her. "Genrou's Revenge!" he snarled, then leaped on her, tickling her mercilessly. "Say it! Say it!"

"No, never! Ahahahahaha! All right, STOP! I'll say it, already!...Glass!" She shrieked as he resumed tickling her. "No, STOP! I'll say it this time, I _promise!_"

She looked up into his grinning face, meeting his dancing eyes, feeling the weight of his body on her. "I love you," she breathed.

His eyes softened as he gazed into her lovely face flushed with laughter, her emerald eyes misty as she smiled up at him. "I love you, too," he murmured huskily. Bending toward her, he took her lips in a gentle kiss, savoring the feeling of her lips as they moved softly against his. He wanted this moment to go on and on; he wanted to hold on to this magic forever...

Far off in the distance, a wolf howled, its lonely cry reverberating through the woods.

Tasuki reluctantly broke off the kiss. "We have to go back," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Mmmm." A reluctant sound of agreement.

Getting to his feet, he held out his hand to her. She took it, pulling herself up, then grabbing her bundle of wet clothes while he retrieved the tessen. They both turned to gaze one last time at the secluded haven where they had shared so much love…but the shadows had moved in and deepened, obscuring their view. Miaka squeezed Tasuki's hand, and they turned to begin the long trek back to the palace. The trees loomed over them, casting giant shadows across their path while the wind muttered softly in the boughs. Tasuki walked ahead, lighting their way with his tessen and pointing out obstacles. Miaka followed in his footsteps, treading carefully, since the tessen only illuminated a small area around them.

"Can't power it up any higher without risking a wildfire," Tasuki explained to her unspoken question.

She smiled at the way they seemed to read each other's minds. They continued for a long way in silence until they reached the intersection of paths that she had seen on her way into the woods. Miaka stared in confusion at the myriad choices, uncertain which path led back to the palace. The darkness and the shifting shadows, the cries of the night birds and other creatures, the sighing of the wind in the creaking boughs--all these made the forest seem larger, more mysterious, more threatening. Miaka felt disoriented and a little nervous. She was grateful to have encountered Tasuki in the woods; otherwise, she would have been hopelessly lost. Of course, she was grateful to have found him for more reasons than his ability to find their way home...

Tasuki took a few paces down one path, then turned around and repeated the sequence down another path. Shaking his head, he reversed direction again, choosing yet a third path. "This is it," he said softly to Miaka, the mystery of the woods at night getting through to him, making him talk in hushed tones.

"How can you tell?" she asked, equally quietly.

"I'll show you in a moment." He extinguished his tessen, shoving it back into its holster.

She was startled by the sudden darkness until her eyes adjusted to the light of the three-quarter moon, just rising over the trees. Her lover approached her, his amber eyes picking up the moonlight and glowing strangely in his shadowed face.

"Miaka..." he breathed, gently grasping her shoulders. "I want to tell you something--here, now, before we go back to our other life." She lifted her face toward him, enchanted by his soft enigmatic tones. "I want you to know how much you mean to me, how much your love has changed my life. I know I said that this was the worst week of my entire life...but it's also been the best, because it brought you to me. You're everything that I could ever want, everything that I never had the courage to dream about before...and I know that I will go on loving you and wanting you for the rest of my life."

"Tasuki," she whispered, his tenderness bringing a lump to her throat.

"No, don't say anything. I'm not asking you to promise me anything. I know that you can't do that yet--or maybe ever." His voice grew husky as he struggled for control. "I just wanted you to know how I felt. Today--your love--everything we shared...it was the best day of my life! And even if it all ends tomorrow, I'll always treasure this moment, this time we shared. Knowing for the first time how it feels to be truly loved by someone is the greatest gift I will ever receive. Whatever you decide, I'll still be the luckiest man in the whole universe…even if I end up alone."

A sudden gust of wind caught leaves up in a tiny whirlwind, swirling briefly between them before dying down, dropping the leaves to float to the ground once more.

"Tasuki," Miaka's voice was choked with emotion, her eyes sparkling with tears. "Today meant everything to me, too! Your love means everything to me. I want... I wish... If only... Oh, _why_ do I have to be so _stupid?_ Why can't I just make a choice and stick with it? What is _WRONG_ with me?" she wept.

Tasuki reached out, wiping the tears from her face. He cupped her cheek in his hand, looking intently into her eyes. "You just love too much, that's all. You love us, and you don't want to hurt me or..." Tasuki paused, then continued. "You don't want to hurt either of us. So you balance on the edge of a knife, looking for a way that you can keep from hurting either one of us--but it doesn't exist. So that's why I'm telling you this. I'll be okay, no matter who you choose in the end; I'll find a way to keep going, and I'll be grateful for your love, even if it's not me you choose. Because I know your heart now, and I know that you'll never really stop loving me--just like you'll never really stop loving him. You can walk through life with only one of us, but you'll always love us both."

Miaka stared up at him in shock. Where did _this_ come from? Since when did he have such wisdom, such insight? All of her turmoil, all of her troubled thoughts these last few days...he took one look at the situation and spelled out the problem in only a few well-chosen words. She felt the fog lift from her brain and the simplicity of her choice becoming clear--and she owed it all to him! Not Chichiri, not Nuriko or Mitsukake or even Chiriko...no, this time it was Tasuki whose wisdom brought her out of her vortex of confusion. She stood gaping at him, her mouth slightly open, not realizing that her face was mirroring her thoughts.

Tasuki began to smile, then laughed out loud at her obvious shock and disbelief. He deliberately assumed his bandit smirk. "Hey," he taunted, adopting his thick country accent. "I'm not _always_ as dumb as I look, ya know!"

Miaka snapped out of her trance at his words, then leapt at him, dropping her uniform and grabbing him into a fierce hug. "Don't you dare insult the man I love, do you hear? You're the smartest, kindest, handsomest, most insightful, most passionate lover any girl could ever want--and I won't hear a word against you, not even from you!"

He laughed at all her superlatives. "Ya know, I said it before; I get the feelin' that you liiiiiike me!"

She grasped his belts, pulling him close and grinning up into his face, then adopted the same country accent he used. "You betcher cute l'il ass I do!" She smirked at him. "Isn't that what you said when you kidnapped me?"

He laughed again, remembering the first time they met. "No, what I actually said was 'Tonight, her cute l'il ass is _MINE!_' "

"And so it is, Genrou. Funny how things turn out, isn't it?"

****

They made their way carefully down the path he had chosen. Whenever they came to a branching of the path, Tasuki would stare intently at the ground before choosing which way they would go. He refused to light the tessen, telling Miaka that its flame would just obscure the signs he needed to see. Grasping her arm gently, he pointed at the ground. Miaka finally saw what he had been looking for: white stones set into the path at odd intervals and in strange patterns, stones that reflected the faint moonlight and glowed like tiny white beacons in the ground.

Miaka stared at them in awe. "What are they doing here? Did someone place these here deliberately?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure they did. Each time I come back from the woods at dusk or at night, there are more of these stones set further into the woods, and they all lead back to the palace. You know, you don't even need moonlight to see them; I've seen them glow just by the light of the stars. But it doesn't matter; as long as you find the white stones, you'll always find your way back home."

"What do these different patterns mean? Or are they just random?"

Tasuki squinted at the single line of four stones in one group, then at the pentagram formed by five stones in the next group. "I think that there's some meaning in each pattern and probably some overall meaning in all the patterns when you look at them in order; I just can't figure out what it is yet. I can't believe that someone could be so indecisive that they keep changing the patterns just because they can't make up their mind. So, no, I don't think it's random, but it don't matter about the patterns, anyway. Like I said, as long as you can see the stones, you're gonna make it back."

Miaka smiled. "Well, I think that it's wonderful that someone would take the trouble to set out guidestones in the woods. Who do you think it is? One of Hotohori's servants?"

Tasuki snorted, stepping over a dead branch and guiding Miaka after him. "No idea. It's hard to believe that Hotohori would think of such a thing; I mean, he never makes it out here, ever. How would he know that guidestones would be helpful at night? Hell, his _servants_ never let the poor guy off the leash long enough to even get to know his own property. Makes you wonder who exactly is the servant and who is the boss in that fancy palace there." Tasuki paused, surprised at his sudden pity for Hotohori. "Ya know, my bandit guys would probably think I'm crazy if they ever heard me say this, but I wouldn't trade places with Hotohori for all the ryu in Konan. I'm pretty sure that it sucks to be the Emperor."

Miaka smiled at Tasuki's sudden compassion for someone who seemed to get on his nerves so often. "Yes, I've always thought that about poor Hotohori. That's why it was exciting to break him out of the palace, first to find Taiitsukun, then to find the rest of the shichiseishi, including you. You know, he seems so happy since we got back from Choko; happy just to be with people who talk to him like a normal human being instead of treating him like a god."

"Yeah, well, he can count on me to not treat him like a god. Being that lonely, that kinda explains his obsession with mirrors; poor guy probably didn't have anybody else to talk to until you came along. But it still doesn't explain his taste in shoes," Tasuki muttered darkly.

Miaka giggled. "Why are you so obsessed with his shoes, Tasuki? They really seem to offend you! He probably doesn't get to choose his wardrobe any more than he gets to take a casual stroll through his own city."

"Look, he's still the emperor. He has the right to behead the pansy-ass who offers up those stupid things and tells him to wear them. I mean, the rest of his stuff is pretty nice; why does he ruin it with those idiot shoes?"

"Wow, since when have you become the principal citation officer of the Fashion Police?"

"The what?" he asked, confused.

"The Fashion Police: self-appointed arbiters of fashion." She looked closely at him, then at the clothes she had borrowed from him. She noticed the rich colors and fine textures, and thought of his old outfit, with the elaborate coat and jewelry. No common shirt and trousers for Tasuki, ever. She'd noted the elegance of his clothes compared to those of the other bandits when he was Genrou, but once he became Tasuki, it was just part of him, part of who he was, like his red hair. It wasn't until now that she really thought about his obvious taste for the finer things. In fact, no other seishi dressed as carefully as he did, except for Nuriko in full concubine mode, which Tasuki had never seen, and Hotohori in his Imperial robes... Oh. Ohhhhhhh.

Miaka burst out laughing. "That's it! You _are_ the Fashion Police! You _are!_ Hotohori's shoes offend your sense of style, that's why you get so mad at him! Hahahahahaha." She rocked back and forth in amusement.

"_Urusai, baka!_ I don't know what this fuckin' Fashion Police thing is, but what's wrong with having a sense of style? Shit, if an ignorant bandit like me can develop one, what excuse does the fuckin' emperor have? Tell me that, huh? I mean, I have to _steal_ the stuff I wear, or at least steal the money to pay for it! All he has to do is clap his lily-white Imperial hands, and the Imperial tailors come running!" He sounded miffed, irritated that she was laughing at him.

Her laughter softened and she linked her arm through his, leaning her head against his shoulder as they continued to follow the white stones. "I love this!" she said spontaneously. "Let's not _ever _change, okay?"

"What're you talkin' about?" he grumbled, trying to stay irritated but yielding to the pleasure of her closeness and her affection.

"Us! You, me...one minute, we're declaring our eternal love and the next minute, we're arguing about Hotohori's shoes and telling each other to shut up! I love it! One thing I know, life with you will never be boring, Tasuki! Promise me that we'll always have our arguments and disagreements."

Tasuki laughed, his eyes shining at her words, words that seemed to promise a future together--the first time that she had ever spoken about the two of them in that way. "Sure, baka girl! That's an easy promise to keep, considering how difficult and stubborn you are!"

_"Mou!"_ she cried.

He laughed wildly, releasing her arm and disappearing over a slight rise in the path. She took off after him, catching up to him where he stood at the edge of the woods, looking at the palace glowing golden against the dark night sky, its lanterns lit against the evening's encroaching shadows. Knowing that the shadows of the forest still held them hidden from view, Tasuki pulled Miaka to him, seizing her lips in a passionate kiss. She clung to him, once again dropping her bundle of clothes and pressing her body against his, returning his kiss enthusiastically. Her hands began to wander...

"Mmmph!" Tasuki gasped, breaking off the kiss. "Stop that--and THAT! We have to get...back... we...have to..." his voice trailed off dreamily.

"Tasuki," Miaka murmured passionately.

"Hmmmmmm?"

"This...is what's called..._Miaka's_ Revenge!" she cried, releasing him, stooping to snatch up her uniform, then running across the moonlit lawn. "NOW try and run after me!" she laughed gleefully, "Catch me if you can!" leaving him cursing at the edge of the forest as she skipped cheerfully toward the light.

****

**Epilogue II: Uh, oh...** (Tasuki, Miaka, Hotohori, Chiriko, Mitsukake)

Of course he caught up to her, putting on a burst of his seishi speed and catching her around the waist. But they were too near to the palace for him to do anything other than whisper promises of vengeance to be wrought upon her when she least expected it.

She giggled unrepentantly, clasping his hand. "And then I'll get even with you again, and it will go on and on..." Her voice took on a dreamy quality as she spoke of their endless cycle of revenge, making him laugh out loud.

They hurried forward into the welcoming glow of the lanternlight, still clasping hands, Miaka laughing in delight.

"I'm STARVING!" she cried. "Let's get something to eat, Tasuki!"

He smirked at her. "Worked up an appetite, didja?"

She grinned back at him. "I think you did, too! Let's go!"

"Whoa, Miaka. You forget how we're dressed. We'd better get changed first."

"Oops! I forgot!"

"Let's try to avoid rousing the whole palace, okay? C'mon, try to be quiet."

They sneaked into the palace like a couple of guilty teenagers returning from a forbidden date, which, when she considered their ages, was technically what they were. They made it past the throne room and were approaching the staircase that led to their rooms when Hotohori emerged from the dining hall, accompanied by Chiriko and Mitsukake. He had been alerted to their arrival by his servants, whom he had charged to inform him immediately of the Suzaku no Miko's return.

"Thank heaven you have returned safely, Miaka!" Hotohori said warmly, then broke off, his dark golden eyes widening as he took in their appearances.

Miaka shifted her weight under his shocked gaze, her sockless feet squeaking in her shoes, as he stared at her abbreviated garb of Tasuki's shirt and tunic over her bare legs. A single leaf fell from her auburn hair. The Imperial gaze turned to Tasuki, clad only in his breeches, boots, and belts, blushing furiously all the way down to his exposed chest. Caught in his fiery locks were a few blades of grass and another leaf. Hotohori turned pale. The tension between the three grew thick in the stunned silence.

Chiriko leaped into the pause cheerfully. "Hey, Miaka, is that your uniform you're carrying? It's soaking wet! Have you been swimming?"

Tasuki shot a grateful glance at the youngest seishi, his tongue finally unsticking itself from the roof of his mouth. "Yeah, that's kinda what happened. Miaka, um, startled me in the woods and I fell into a pond, and she jumped in to pull me out; not that I needed help, but you know that baka girl..." He trailed off as he realized that Hotohori was looking from Miaka's wet bundle of clothes to Tasuki's obviously dry breeches, shirt and tunic.

"Hey!" cried Miaka suddenly. "Are those dumplings that I smell? I'm _starving! _It'll just take me a minute to change, then I'll be down to join you!" She ran off, her enthusiasm for food causing her to abandon her fifth seishi where he stood, still being stared down by Hotohori.

"Er...may I be excused, Your Highness?" asked Tasuki, exquisitely polite to Hotohori for the first time in his life.

Hotohori fixed Tasuki with one last silent look, then nodded, whirling around to return to the dining hall. Chiriko skipped behind him happily.

Tasuki turned to go upstairs but was stopped by a large hand grasping his shoulder.

"Good story, Tasuki!" Mitsukake grinned at him and winked. "Very, ahem, _imaginative."_ He laughed and turned to rejoin his dinner companions.

*******

*******

**Glossary of Japanese terms:**

Yatta! - a cheer, like Hurray!

Urusai, baka! - Shut up, stupid!

Mou! - a scolding protest, like "Hey, you!"

**Author's Note: (2-21-02)** Okay, now I'm going to say it once and for all: I DO love Hotohori! I DO! And I swear to stop channeling Tatewaki Kuno when I write him! I didn't make him look stupid here, did I? I was aiming for just shocked and angry.

So, the "Cinderella" argument: who's right? Tasuki! The earliest known version of the Cinderella story originated in ancient China, and the shoe that is lost is a fur slipper. And remember the tiny foot that fits into the slipper – a highly prized female characteristic in ancient China. The glass slippers did not become part of the story until it made its way into Western culture hundreds of years later.

Next, the long-awaited appearance of the white stones (though it's sandwiched between two arguments about shoes; maybe I should have called this epilogue "Shoes!") The white stones concept comes from the album "White Stones" by Secret Garden. (Three songs from this album play a major role in my "soundtrack" for this fic, two being especially important in the last chapter.) They describe the story of two children who overhear their poverty-stricken parents' plans to abandon them in the forest that night. The children gather white stones to drop in the path, so that the stones will reflect the moonlight, helping them find their way back home...and so begins the tale of Hansel and Gretel. Secret Garden sees Music as being the white stones to their listeners, guiding them out of the darkness--but I have a slightly different interpretation.

Finally, speaking of long-awaited appearances: guess who's coming back next chapter? (Fans of mysterious blue-haired monks, rejoice!) But here's the thing: I have family commitments this weekend (interestingly, it's my sister, Chichiri's Girl, coming into town for a visit, and _she's _the one laying on the whips to get me back to Chichiri!) so I don't know when I'll get the time to finish and polish Chapter 11. I will do my best to post it by the end of next week at the latest, but I don't know for certain, no da! And…will the Chichiri of Chapter 11 be the Chichiri you know and love? – or will he be a little…different?


	14. Chapter 11 Confrontation

The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Ummm, let's see what I own: Taiitsukun's crystal shakujou...and the oni (oh, goody).

Musical selection: "Cursum Perficio" by Enya from her CD "Watermark."

*******

**Chapter 11. Confrontation** (Chichiri, Nyan, Taiitsukun)

The last red ray of the setting sun slipped below the horizon, yielding the indigo sky to the chill embrace of the pale moon and glittering stars. Gone, too, was the last vestige of warmth on the mountain, chased into the darkness by the cold, relentless wind. Snow whipped around the mountain's peak, pulled from the frozen earth rather than the crystalline sky, swirling in countless eddies in the wind's incessant current. Streams of tiny crystal shards spiraled out to plunge like tiny daggers into the form of the weary traveler pausing in his long climb to the summit. He flinched at their myriad tiny stings, unable to summon forth a shield against them without alerting the denizens of the mountain to the presence of his distinctive ki. So he huddled in his hooded cloak, shielding his ki, grasping his kasa and shakujou and waiting for the proper position of the stars before completing the last leg of his journey.

It had been a long, hard journey for the warrior-monk: traveling swiftly through the land, changing horses as often as twice a day, pausing to sleep or eat only for the minimum time needed to replenish his energy. Although he knew it was risky to drive himself so hard before facing what could be the ultimate challenge of his life, he couldn't shake the sense of urgency that possessed him. During the first leg of his journey, he cast out feelers for the ki forces of his wounded brothers, finding to his relief that the most gravely injured one was making a quicker recovery than expected. However, the other was slipping slowly toward an ever-increasing darkness, pulling his devoted companion with him. The monk knew that he had to complete his mission as quickly as possible, and return to the palace before the tragedy that had befallen them succeeded in claiming the life or sanity of a Suzaku shichiseishi.

Chichiri shivered in the frigid gale, watching the stars move slowly in their inexorable course through the heavens. He blew on his hands, trying to keep some feeling in them, grateful for the borrowed cloak he wore. It was not really his style to wear such a heavy garment, but the kindly innkeeper at the last inn in the foothills of Mount Taikyoku insisted that the monk take it on his pilgrimage to the desolate peak of the mysterious mountain.

"Suzaku-sama would not forgive me for allowing one of his holy ones to suffer in the cold during such a blessed pilgrimage!" the worthy man had exclaimed.

Chichiri snorted, his breath steaming in the icy air. Blessed pilgrimage, holy monk, indeed! If only the innkeeper knew... Yet he could not fault the kind man's good intentions or devout nature, so he sent a prayer of blessing heavenward for the man's prosperity, hoping that Suzaku would answer it .

He flexed his fingers around his kasa, trying to keep the blood flowing, surprised at the misery being inflicted upon him by the icy wind. He was unused to being unshielded in the face of the elements.

"Getting soft!" he reprimanded himself, knowing that he'd become accustomed to using his ki force to shield himself from physical discomfort. That reliance had to stop; he was finding himself more and more in situations where he was either unable or unwilling to use his ki, so he'd better start building up his body's natural strength.

He frowned as memory took him back to the last time he had to shield his ki, during their rescue mission to Kutou, when he'd played that frantic game of hide-and-seek within the grounds of the Kutou palace:first with Tasuki, then with Miaka. Nakago's shield had cut him off from his seishi power, so he'd been forced to draw upon deeper, darker powers--at the same time using as little as possible to keep from revealing his true abilities to the cold, perceptive eye of the Shogun.

He was fairly certain that one-on-one, he could match or even defeat the formidable ki force of Seiryuu's principal warrior. But Nakago's power had been enhanced by the addition of other powers blended with his, powers that held the essence of darkness. He'd recognized the distinctive scent of dark sorcery, its bitter, smoky tang pervading his senses so strongly that he could almost taste it. There _had_ to be more magicians within the ranks of the Seiryuu warriors, dark magicians--and it was essential that they not recognize his own powers. So he'd allowed Tasuki to fight alone, watching the young Suzaku seishi get beaten and strangled to within an inch of his life. Only when he'd set up enough distractions, using Tama-neko and Amiboshi to break the shield, could he reach out and pull Tasuki from Tamahome's grasp.

Chichiri shuddered, more from his memories than from the cold. He'd been willing to sacrifice Tasuki, hadn't he?--willing to sacrifice the courageous young seishi rather than reveal himself to the enemy. His expression grew bitterly sad as he thought of Tasuki's pain, past and present. What was he himself becoming? How far was he willing to go in this quest to summon Suzaku? If it hadn't been for Nuriko's success in reaching his heart several nights ago, Chichiri might doubt that he even had a heart to be touched.

"No more!" the magician whispered. "No more sacrifices!"

He lifted his tear-filled eye to the heavens, seeing the stars finally move into the position he had been awaiting. Placing his frozen hand into his cloak, he fumbled for the small bag that hung around his neck and withdrew a gold finial from the pouch, an object with strange geometric designs protruding from its surface. He brushed the ice from the end of his staff, then fitted the finial onto its tip. Chichiri moved toward a dark outcropping of rock, holding the shakujou perpendicular to the ground, the golden head held even with his eye, its rings jingling softly in the wind. He gazed through the ornate head at the brilliant sky, then chose a distinctive cluster of stars appropriate to the time of year, and aligned the staff so that the constellation fitted within the ornate curves of its head. He plunged the staff straight down into the snow, seeking out the hard resistance of a tiny metal plate. Finding his mark at last, he gently rotated the staff until the geometric designs of the finial clicked into matching indentations in the plate, then breathed a brief spell, keeping the magic at its lowest possible level.

"Open," he whispered. A dark, swirling portal appeared before him, its interior lit by intermittent flashes of lightning-like energy. He stepped quickly into its spinning embrace, clutching his hat and staff tightly as he was whisked through.

The portal closed with a sound like faint thunder, leaving the snow-covered peak empty once more, the wind keening its lonely cry only to the silent, glowing denizens of the night sky.

****

Chichiri stood quietly at the edge of the courtyard of Taiitsukun's palace on Mount Taikyoku, regaining his bearings after his disorienting trip through the portal. He gazed at the familiar enchanted landscape adorned with huge spheres floating gently above the grounds, their golden glow contrasting sharply with the dark sky. After the icy gales of the illusory mountain, the cool late summer breeze of the real Mount Taikyoku felt as gentle as a lover's caress against his skin. His silvery-blue bangs drooped over his face, still clinking faintly with the ice that had formed during his long climb to the summit. Pulling off the heavy hooded cloak, he used the thick material to dry his hair, then folded the cloak and set it under a tree, hoping to return it to the kind innkeeper some day if the opportunity ever presented itself. He hoped that the horse, at least, had found its way back to the inn after he had released it at the base of the mountain.

The magician placed his kasa on his head and held his shakujou horizontally across his body, grasping its rings to keep them from chiming. Stealthily, carefully, he skirted the courtyard, staying within the shadows of the trees until he reached the area he had been seeking: the temples of the Four Gods, where Taiitsukun communed with the seikun over the centuries, giving and receiving instructions depending on whose priestess was actively requiring guidance in the Shi Jin Ten Chi Sho at that time.

He slipped into the first temple: the temple of Genbu. This temple was not as large as its counterpart in Hokkan, but its high, shadowed ceiling gave the sanctuary a feeling of vastness beyond its physical size. The centerpiece of the temple was a statue of Genbu carved from a single piece of black jade, the artistry of the sculpture making the statue appear alive, its snake-like heads twisting sinuously above the tortoise-shelled body. The walls of the temple were decorated with richly rendered hangings in deep green and black, depicting triumphs of the seikun and his warriors in the frozen North. The dim light of two oil lamps danced on the waters of a softly murmuring serenity fountain, but there was no other sign of activity within the temple, no indication of any active communication between seikun and oracle for the last two centuries. It was as he expected - Genbu still slept, waiting for his next priestess to appear and summon him again.

It was much the same in the temple of Byakko. The shrine was the same size as all the other shrines of the beast-gods, with the same vaulted ceiling and the same feeling of celestial vastness. The central figure in the temple was a statue of Byakko carved from white jade, his black stripes rendered in obsidian, crouching as if to spring upon the observer. The principal colors of the temple decor were white shot through with gold, but other than substituting perpetually burning golden flames for trickling water, the temple was no different than Genbu's in the sense of somnolence which permeated its confines. No, the white tiger seikun had not been active for the past ninety years, except in one aspect; Chichiri sensed some connection between Byakko and Suzaku no Tamahome. However, this association was currently quiescent, playing no role in the present turmoil in Tamahome's life. He shook his head, accepting that time would reveal all, and moved on to the next temple.

He hesitated before the temple of Seiryuu, taking care to make certain that his ki was completely shielded before he stepped into the temple confines. He knew that Seiryuu was very much awake and aware, and that it would be an even greater disaster at this point to alert Seiryuu to his presence than to reveal himself to Taiitsukun. Chichiri was certain that the dragon-seikun had no small resentment against him, not only because he was one of Suzaku's warriors, but also for the part he had played in damaging Seiryuu's temple in Kutou during his and Tamahome's rescue of Miaka. He edged around the door until he was completely within the shrine.

Water. Water everywhere - cascading, pouring, splashing in fountains that murmured secret enchantments to themselves. Waterfalls falling smooth and clear into crystal pools that flowed over hidden rims into mysterious troughs, going on to form glistening streams coursing out of the temple in concealed apertures. In the midst of all this stood the statue of the dragon-god, its sinuous form glimmering golden in the lamplight, its sapphire eyes glowing, waiting, watching… Despite himself, the monk was overcome with awe. He'd not had much time to appreciate Seiryuu's temple in Kutou before he breached the barrier, arriving just in time to save Miaka from being flung against the wall by Nakago's ki attack. Shortly thereafter, Tamahome had destroyed the temple walls, sending huge blocks of marble crashing into the myriad fountains. They'd transported out of there hastily, escaping while Nakago was still stunned by their attack...so this was the first time that Chichiri had had the chance to thoroughly take in the surprising beauty and serenity of the temple of the god of war.

He ducked his head, pretending to be just another visitor to the temple, keeping his identity shielded but letting his awe seep out. He moved quickly into the area where Taiitsukun communicated with the seikun. The ashes of the sacred incense were cold, and there was no scent of the energy transmitted between seikun and oracle--a distinctive ozone smell, like lightning on a summer night. Chichiri sighed in relief. It didn't appear as if Taiitsukun had been communicating with Seiryuu recently. Scanning the temple very briefly with his hidden powers, he calculated that it had been at least three months since the dragon-god manifested itself in person on Mount Taikyoku. This did not completely exonerate Seiryuu from involvement in the oni incident; plans may well have been made far in advance. But this new evidence, combined with the lack of reaction from Kutou to the Suzaku turmoil, made it much more likely that the oni attack truly was the result of a terrible mistake on Taiitsukun's part.

A mistake indeed--but that was no excuse for the current silence from the oracle. No apology, no assumption of responsibility, no effort to help or make amends. Chichiri felt anger rising in him, so he quickly exited the temple of Seiryuu before his ki shield wavered.

He stood beneath the stars, their brilliance dimmed by the waxing moon. He took a deep breath to clear his mind, then glanced at the temple of Suzaku, and decided against visiting this familiar sanctuary. He was about to embark upon a confrontation with the phoenix-god's oracle, and he could see no point in alerting Suzaku to his intentions. He knew that he was now acting of his own volition rather than following the path set out for him by his god.

Chichiri moved toward the palace, wanting to explore one last area before he revealed his presence to Taiitsukun. He knew that his chances of escaping detection within the palace itself were very slim; the watchful guardian of Mount Taikyoku would not fail to recognize the presence of an intruder. He could only hope to get enough time for a quick look around before he was apprehended by the guardian, but hopefully, that quick look would confirm the information that he had already obtained about the inception of the oni incident. From there, he would decide how to deal with Taiitsukun.

Slipping into the palace, Chichiri moved swiftly toward the temple of Taiitsukun, her own sanctuary in which she received the infrequent but hopeful pilgrims who braved the icy mountain to kneel before her, offering petitions to be presented to one of the Four Gods. This was what the kindly innkeeper had mistaken him for: a holy man on a mission for his village or some other noble cause. But Taiitsukun also received other visitors here. He moved stealthily toward the elaborate carved doors to the temple, doors which reached to the high ceiling of the corridor, the carvings of the Four Gods reflecting faintly on their surfaces. He opened the doors and slipped inside Taiitsukun's temple.

This temple resembled the temples of the gods in its vaulted ceiling and feeling of spaciousness. But the only statues within the shrine were representations of the Four Gods, not of Taiitsukun him/herself. A wise decision, thought Chichiri, considering the unprepossessing exterior that Taiitsukun had chosen for his/her disguise. The temple was dimly lit by elaborately carved oil lamps, their light reflecting off the quiet serenity fountain whose waters formed a moat around the raised dais above which Taiitsukun would appear to her visitors. The monk moved further into the temple, placing his shakujou on the dais and casting around for the traces of other ki signatures, looking in particular for that of the Shogun of Kutou. Nothing--just the innocuous ki of a pilgrim who had passed through perhaps one month ago. That was all to the good, thought Chichiri, but he still intended to confront Taiitsukun about a possible conspiracy, if only to see how she would react.

As he took one last look around the temple, he suddenly felt another presence and knew that he had been detected by the guardian. He leapt forward and seized his staff just as silver bolts of energy hissed towards him. Spinning his staff while rapidly chanting warding spells, he managed to deflect the attack. The bolts bounced off the walls, then disappeared, as a huge shape prowled gracefully into the sanctuary. Chichiri gazed at the silver-blue fur and cold silver eyes of the panther-like guardian of Mt. Taikyoku - a panther that stood five feet tall at the shoulder. The creature suddenly multiplied into several copies of itself which stalked around the room until they completely surrounded him. He stood calmly in place and stared into the eyes of the original guardian.

"Hello, Nyan."

****

At his words, all of the panthers suddenly morphed into cherubic, cheerful blue-haired girls.

"Chichiri-sama!" they called out happily, flying around him.

"Chichiri-sama's here!"

"Chichiri-sama's back!"

"Chichiri-sama _frightened_ Nyan-nyan!"

"Almost as much as Taiitsukun's face!"

"Has Chichiri-sama come to fix Taiitsukun's face?!" They twittered and swooped, seeming to take joy in his unexpected visit.

Chichiri continued to stare dispassionately at the original Nyan. "You forgot the eyes," he admonished.

The silver eyes of the lead Nyan suddenly flashed, then morphed into an innocent lavender-blue. "Chichiri-sama makes Nyan-nyan very happy!"

"You can stop now," Chichiri interrupted. "You forget; I know what you really are. So let's not waste any more time. Fetch Taiitsukun for me. I need to talk to her."

The multiple copies of Nyan disappeared, leaving one blue-haired girl staring up at Chichiri, her appearance maturing into that of a young woman. "What could be so important that it brings you here in the dead of night, Chichiri-sama?--bringing you through a secret portal to move in stealth through our home like a thief in the night?"

Chichiri met her suspicious glare evenly. "My business is with Taiitsukun, not her guardian spirit."

Nyan's eyes flashed silver for a moment at the snub, then she nodded. "Wait here." she commanded, and left to inform the oracle of the unexpected visit from her disciple.

Time passed...

Chichiri sat in the temple, waiting patiently for Taiitsukun to appear. He knew that the extended wait was calculated to unnerve him, so he sat calmly with his kasa beside him, fingertips pressed together, eye closed, legs crossed in a meditative pose. Just as he planned, his apparent relaxation finally compelled Taiitsukun to appear. She floated in midair, her ribbons trailing as she glared at the intruder. Chichiri unfolded his legs and stood before her.

"Suzaku no Chichiri!" the oracle barked, her ancient voice harsh. "Explain yourself! How dare you disturb our rest?"

Chichiri's gaze was flat. "Is that what you were doing, resting? I wondered why I haven't heard from you in over a week. In fact, we haven't communicated since the failed summoning of Suzaku. Don't you want to know why we haven't left to seek out the Shinzaho yet?" By this time, Chichiri's tone was as harsh as Taiitsukun's. "Aren't you the least bit _curious_ as to what the Suzaku shichiseishi are doing? Or does that magic mirror of yours tell you more than you _want _to know?"

Taiitsukun's features contorted in rage. "How dare you speak so to me? _Watashi wa sensei desu! Anata wa __seito desu! _What gives you the right to invade my home without my permission and speak to me with such disrespect?"

Chichiri's eye blazed with such fury that Taiitsukun moved back. "What gives me the right?" he hissed. "I'll _tell_ you what gives me the _right!"_

His voice cracked like a whip in the hushed surroundings. "Holding the broken body of that boy in my arms as he wept with pain and humiliation! Looking into the face of his attacker, and seeing a wish for death in the eyes of one so young that he had only just _begun_ to live! Feeling the heartbreak of all those who love them, as they struggled to understand _why!_ _THAT_ is what gives me the right to call you to account for what your _stupidity_ has wrought! You ask how _I_ dare? I ask how _YOU_ dare face Suzaku after nearly destroying his chosen ones more effectively than anything Nakago could do!" He drew in a breath. "Or is it Seiryuu that you answer to?"

Taiitsukun did not attempt to pretend that she didn't know what Chichiri was talking about. Her hooded eyes flashed as she glared at her disciple. "You go too far, Suzaku no Chichiri! You know perfectly well that I deal with the dragon-seikun as little as possible. You know that we have had a falling-out ever since he felt it necessary to destroy an _entire people_ merely to hone the hatred and power of his principal warrior!" Taiitsukun scowled as she remembered her confrontation with Seiryuu. Losing compassion for the brief lives of humans was one of the side-effects of being immortal...and one of the reasons that she was being confronted by her own disciple now.

She met the glaring eye of Suzaku's monk, suddenly hesitant as she realized her mistake in thinking the situation less than devastating since no one had died. "What happened to Tasuki and Tamahome was a...regrettable error on my part," she admitted.

"Regrettable _ERROR?" _Chichiri hissed. "My brothers almost kill each other _and_ _themselves_ because of your incompetence, and you call it a _regrettable error?"_

Taiitsukun shifted her position, her shame causing her to react defensively. "They are not yours, Chichiri! They are the chosen ones of Suzaku, not your brothers by blood!" She paused and lowered her voice. "I have contacted Suzaku about this situation, and I await his decision as to what action needs to be taken for the good of all his warriors. What we need at this point is retrieve the seishi power of Suzaku no Tamahome and deal with this oni once and for all. You may waste all the time you wish in useless recriminations, but I believe that you would do better to return to the palace and help in the healing of your fellow seishi."

Chichiri regarded the oracle silently. Finally he spoke. "You're correct in saying that recriminations are a waste of time, and time is something that I don't have. But I would like to know if you feel _anything_ at all about the pain you have caused--anything other than mild regret. I'd like to know if the lives of Suzaku's warriors mean anything in the great celestial games of the gods."

Taiitsukun flushed. "Yes, Chichiri, they do. You know your god; he does not take your lives lightly. As for myself, I am bitterly sorry for what has happened due to my negligence...and that is the primary reason I have been unable to face you, at least until I had some solution to your problems. If it's any comfort to you, this entire experience has also changed me; at least, it's changed the way I will approach my actions in dealing with mortal lives in the future."

The monk nodded in acknowledgment of her apology. "More than that I cannot ask. But there is one other thing," his voice dropped. "They _are_ mine. They are my children, my family, the brothers of my heart--and there is nothing that you or Suzaku or all the powers of heaven or hell can do to change that!"

Taiitsukun frowned at his defiance and the shifting of his loyalties away from Suzaku and toward his fellow seishi, but decided to deal with that at some other point. "Be that as it may, Chichiri, we have greater problems before us. Will you help me to free Tamahome's power from the grip of the oni?"

Chichiri nodded, reaching to remove Chiriko's scroll from his belt. He laid it on the floor of the temple before the dais.

"Nyan," commanded Taiitsukun.

The young woman stepped forward from the shadows where she had been keeping watch over Taiitsukun. She gripped a piece of sacred incense in her hand, using it to draw a wide circle around the scroll, then retrieved a shakujou from behind the dais and handed it to Taiitsukun. The shakujou was even more ornate than Chichiri's, its shaft gleaming with gold and its crystal rings chiming like celestial bells.

Chichiri walked over to the dais to stand beside Taiitsukun, placing his hat on the dais to keep it out of their way. They locked glances and raised their shakujous toward the scroll. "Come out!" they both commanded.

****

The scroll vibrated at their command, the strong pull of the power within the scroll vying with the demon's attempts to escape. Not wishing to compromise the power of the scroll, Taiitsukun and Chichiri struggled to gently pry the oni out of its grip, focusing their ki forces and attempting to communicate with the power within. Sweat beaded on Chichiri's forehead as he gently rotated his shakujou back and forth, seeking the correct position to draw forth the oni. Finally, he felt the scroll's power yield.

Taiitsukun sighed in relief. "We have it!" she whispered in triumph.

A hissing sound issued from the scroll, along with a dark amorphous form glowing with yellow-green light. Chichiri felt something inside of him clench at the sight of the true form of the demon. Clutched within the grasping protrusions of the oni was a light glowing red with the power of Suzaku.

"Nyan," Taiitsukun ordered again.

The young woman approached the pulsating form of the demon. Drawing a brush-like whisk from a pot of fragrant water, she flung droplets of the sacred infusion at the oni. They all heard a shriek within their minds as the form contorted, releasing the red light from its grasp. Tamahome's seishi power flowed upward and out, swirling around Taiitsukun before streaming into her shakujou. The oni flung itself at the circle in an attempt to escape, but the magic barrier threw it back into the center. The oni now lacked a body to vocalize outwardly, but they could hear its angry hissing as it communicated with them telepathically.

Chichiri stared at the oily darkness which comprised the physical manifestation of the oni, yellow-green light sliding off its constantly morphing shape. The oni seemed to take notice of his regard, twisting sinuously closer to the edge of the circle nearest Chichiri.

"So we meet again, little monk!" it hissed gleefully in their minds. "Did you..._miss_ me?"

Chichiri felt a slight shudder run through him at its seductive tone. He turned to face Taiitsukun. "What now?"

"Now I must purify Tamahome's seishi power with Suzaku's help, then try to enhance it once again as Suzaku had commanded." She looked Chichiri in the eye. "I will be very careful this time, I promise you. I will take every precaution to make sure that it turns out as it should."

She floated forward and used the shaft of her shakujou to pull Chiriko's golden scroll out of the enchanted circle. Nyan hurried forward to pick it up, then handed it to Chichiri, who tucked it back into his belt.

Taiitsukun spoke again. "You may return the scroll to Suzaku no Chiriko with my thanks. I will let you know when Tamahome's seishi power has been purified."

"So what will become of this...thing?" Chichiri stared coldly at the dark, roiling mass of the oni.

"I will send it back into the deepest depths of Hell to burn for eternity." Taiitsukun's voice was hard, resolute.

"But it's possible that one day, it could escape again; it's possible that it could get free."

"Oh yes, little monk!" The oni's voice scratched gleefully at their minds. "Then I'll come looking for you...and we'll _dance!_ Perhaps we'll even invite your friend Tasuki to join us; I am so _very _fond of him, as well!"

Taiitsukun scowled. "The chances of such a thing happening again are very small, almost nonexistent."

Chichiri's eye narrowed. "_Almost_ isn't good enough." His voice dropped, growing cold, dangerous. "Step aside, Taiitsukun."

Taiitsukun's eyes widened at the command. "What do you intend? I won't allow--!"

"Step aside, I said." His voice was steel encased in ice.

Taiitsukun floated back in surprise. Nyan converted to her panther form, a growl rumbling in her chest as she prowled protectively around the oracle.

"You too, Nyan. This is all the warning you're going to get." A mystical wind began to whirl around Chichiri, ruffling his hair and lifting his kesa to snap and swirl sinuously around him. He placed his staff upright, holding it between himself and the pulsating, crawling form of the oni. A reddish glow began to emanate from his body--but it was not the pure red light of Suzaku. This was a dark, scorching red: the red of raging hellfire, of freshly spilled blood...

Nyan's hackles rose, and she caught Taiitsukun's ribbons in her teeth, dragging the old woman back and away from the magician.

Taiitsukun cried out once more. "Chichiri! These are sacred precincts! I _forbid _you to--"

"_Shut up!_" he snarled. "You have no power over me!"

The oni's voice chortled happily in their heads. "Oh, yessss, _lovely!_ You excite me, little monk! What darkness lies within you! I want you to be mine _forever!"_

Chichiri's gaze was pitiless. "There is no more _forever_ for you, you crawling abomination! It all ends for you tonight--right _here_, right _now!_"

He began to chant spells in some unknown, guttural tongue. The blood-red aura surrounding him became tinged with black, the darkness threading itself through his hair, his clothes, his face until his features were lost in shadow. Only his eye could be seen, suddenly blazing a light, hot silver-blue. The same light flared from the ornate gold head of his staff, the rings chiming sharply as they clashed together in the mystical wind. Chichiri began to rotate the shakujou in a figure eight around his body, gaining speed until the staff blurred in his grasp.

Suddenly, he snapped his wrist, pointing the light toward the oni. "_This _is for your violation of _my_ memories!"

The silver-blue light stabbed into the oni like a dagger, and the creature contorted and shrieked in surprised agony.

The light in Chichiri's eye changed to a deep pulsing violet, the light of the staff shifting to the same hue. He lifted the staff above his head as he once again began its deadly rotation, still chanting in the cabalistic tongue. Sweeping the staff downward before the oni, he cast the light directly on its twitching, jerking form.

"_This_ is for_ Nuriko's_ tears!" he snarled, as the violet light crushed the oni beneath its invisible weight.

The oni screamed, trying to crawl out from beneath the grinding pressure, the intense crushing pain reminiscent of a gauntleted arm pressing against one's throat. After several seconds, Chichiri set the staff upright, releasing the creature briefly, only to immediately recommence the sinister gyrations of the shakujou around his form.

The oni began to whimper, recognizing the deadliness of the power being wielded by the mage. "Please," its voice scratched weakly. "Please don't..."

"_This_...is for _Tamahome's_ suffering!" screamed the magician, his voice as cold and desolate as an arctic wind blowing across icy wastes.

The light of the staff darkened to an intense midnight blue, Chichiri's eye darkening along with it. The light leaped forth from the staff in short hard bursts, impacting the oni again and again, causing the creature to howl beneath the endless pummeling blows. Suddenly, the staff jerked upward, stopping the attack.

The now pitiful demon trembled and whimpered, its dark mass shuddering weakly. "Please," it begged. "Please don't hurt me anymore..."

Chichiri stood silent, the blackish light fading out from his red aura, his features once again emerging from the shadows.

Taiitsukun floated open-mouthed in shock as Nyan continued to hold her back. "Is it...is it over?" she stammered.

Chichiri did not acknowledge her with so much as a glance.

"I wonder," he mused softly to the demon. "I wonder how many times you've heard those same words over the centuries. Can you remember?"

Taiitsukun and Nyan began to relax, reassured by his soft tone and the pure red hue of his aura.

Chichiri continued. "Do you remember the last time you heard those same pleas for mercy? Was it perhaps just_--last--__WEEK?_"

He howled in rage, finally releasing the tight control he'd held over his emotions for the past seven days, and allowed his memories to flood through him, the agonizing images flashing before his eyes once more: amber eyes wide with terror, then filled with tears of humiliation--a broken, bloodied body trembling in his arms--that same body limp in his grasp as the anguished boy tried to escape through unconsciousness--Chichiri let his own grief and rage and anguish burn through him, feeding the darkness within him like oil poured on flames. The red of his aura was now shot through with yellow and orange, leaping, crackling, blazing around him.

"Mercy shall be given to you!" he thundered at the cowering demon. "The very same mercy you showed my _brother!_"

He whipped his staff around his head until it whistled in a intensifying vortex of power, seeming to pull darkness out of every shadow in the temple, concentrating the dark energy until the magician appeared to stand in a cyclone of hellish, sorcerous black light. He suddenly threw his hand upward, arresting the deadly revolutions and snapping the staff at the oni.

"THIS!" he roared, his voice echoing with the fury of a wildfire destroying everything in its path, "is for _TASUKI!"_

The staff exploded with mystical fire, an inferno of bright flames blasting forth like the divine fire of the tessen. The oni shrieked again and again as it blistered and bubbled in the hellish conflagration. Chichiri held the fire steadily on the contorting form of the demon, its screams for mercy drowned by the roar of the flames. Finally, its blackened form shuddered and fell silent, yet the magician kept the flames pouring onto the twisted darkness until the last ash of its existence was burned away.

At last, he pulled the shakujou upright. The fire went out immediately, leaving the temple dim and dark. Chichiri's aura faded away, the mystical wind dying down as his kesa floated down into its usual position across his body. His panting was the only sound in the darkness, his two witnesses having been struck dumb with awe and horror. Finally, he regained his breath. He stooped to retrieve his hat, then turned to face Taiitsukun.

"You will let me know when to bring Tamahome here to reclaim his seishi power." The statement was simple, firm, more of a command than a request.

Taiitsukun finally snapped out of her shocked immobility. Nyan converted back to her little girl form, clinging anxiously to Taiitsukun's side.

The old woman's mouth worked as she gestured with a trembling hand toward the blackened space where the oni had once crawled. "What?" she sputtered. "How?--_Where?"_

"The oni no longer exists on this plane...or any other." Chichiri's reply was soft, direct. "It's gone--forever." He turned and began to walk out of the shrine.

"Chichiri!" The ancient voice was furious, accusing. "_I_ never taught you any of the dark arts! I never taught you such soul-destroying _sorcery!_"

Chichiri paused, not turning around. "No," he agreed. "You didn't."

Taiitsukun drew herself up in rage at his insolence. Nyan huddled closer to her in fear. The old woman's voice cracked like a whip. "When you came here to study, I took you in, believing that you were not only one of Suzaku's chosen ones, but also a holy man, a scholar! Explain yourself, Suzaku no Chichiri!"

The reply was soft, flat. "I said I was a monk."

Chichiri turned his head slightly so that she could see his right profile.

"I never claimed to be a saint."

Placing his hat on his head, he turned and walked out the door.

*******

*******

**Glossary of Japanese terms:**

1) kasa - (bamboo) hat

2) shakujou - monk's staff

3) kesa - (Buddhist priest's) stole; Chichiri's cloak

4) seikun - god, referring to one of the four beast-gods

5) Shi Jin Ten Chi Sho - The Universe of the Four Gods

6) "Watashi wa _sensei_ desu! Anata wa _seito_ desu!" - "I am the _teacher!_ You are the _student!" _(Taiitsukun is attempting to put Chichiri in his place.)

**Author's notes: **Hmmmmm, a dark, vengeful, merciless Chichiri. Probably not what the fans were expecting--I await all comments. Flowers and brickbats both welcome (author ducks and hides in storm shelter). As for why, and what is in Chichiri's past...well, you'll have to wait for the next chapter--and maybe the next fic.

And a dangerous Nyan-nyan, as well. Why did I depict Nyan-nyan as a feline? One of my little fancies, originating from her name. Nyan is one of the ways the Japanese represent the sound a cat makes (also written as Nyao or Niao - what we call Meow). Also, the Viz manga defines her name as meaning "Nanny." Nanny? Why would Taiitsukun need a _nanny_? But perhaps she could use a _guardian; _could be one of the reasons she puts up with all of the little imp's insults.

Oh, by the way, thanks to all of you for putting me up over 100 reviews. Actually, I had to wait until review #101 before I could celebrate in all honesty because...ahem...one of the reviews was from me! Eheheheheh.

Well, Phoenix, you once called for vengeance for Tasuki--good enough?

To Chichiri's Girl: Well, here he is as promised. I don't know what the reaction to him will be, but personally, I am finding him devastatingly sexx-_aayyyyy!_ Happy birthday, dear sister; happy birthday to you!

(3-3-02) Aaaackkk! I'm an absent-minded, ungrateful wretch to have forgotten to thank Purple Mouse and Kryssa for their beta-reading of this chapter! Their excellent input helped this chapter to flow better, so if you enjoyed it, please thank them, too. Kris, Mouse-chan…Domo arigatou gozaimashita!


	15. Chapter 12 Purification II Ritual

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Musical Selection: Once again, "Sanctuary" by Secret Garden, on their CD 'White Stones', copyright 1997 PolyGram Publishing, Norway. I don't mean to keep using the same piece of music, but this one is so appropriate for the "Shrine of Suzaku" scenes that you're just going to have to put up with me. Not to mention the perfect title.

What I own: The purification ritual and other original elements of this fic.

*******

**Chapter 12. Purification II: Ritual **(Mitsukake, Tasuki, Chichiri)

*

"He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster,

And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."

Friedrich Nietzsche_, Jenseits von Gut und Bose_

_*_

Midnight found the Imperial Palace in Konan settling into its nightly slumber, most of its inhabitants retiring to their separate quarters to rest up for the next day's challenges and demands. The last wakeful servant padded quietly through the corridors, snuffing the oil lamps and torches, leaving only a few isolated lamps to form small islands of light separated by wide straits of deep shadow. The golden glow of lanternlight disappeared with the soft hiss of the extinguished wicks, yielding the courtyard to the bright light of the gibbous moon.

The tall figure of the Suzaku healer paused in his nightly rounds to admire the view from the second floor balcony, the silvery glow of moonlight lending a mystical aura to the familiar landscape. The beauty soothed his troubled spirit, pushing away his anxiety so that his mind would be free and clear to ponder a solution to his most troubling problem.

He had just returned from another visit to Tamahome and Nuriko in the palace prison. Both of the young seishi were sleeping, exhausted by the traumatic struggle earlier in the day, when Mitsukake and Nuriko tried to force Tamahome to take in some nourishment. Even their combined strength could not compel the distraught youth to swallow more than a few sips of broth. When they forced some rice into him, the violence of his struggles caused him to vomit up everything that they had succeeded in force-feeding him, making them have to start all over again with the broth. Perhaps the worst part of the whole experience was watching hope die in Nuriko's eyes, the hope that he, Tasuki, and Chiriko had succeeded in bringing back to Nuriko just two days ago. Mitsukake felt the now bitterly familiar feeling of helplessness take hold in him again.

He realized that he'd been subconsciously waiting for Chichiri to return, bearing Tamahome's seishi power and perhaps some other magical cure for their woes. But it was now six nights since he'd seen Chichiri off on his perilous quest--the outside time in which Chichiri had promised to return--and there was still no word from his friend. Mitsukake felt dread take hold of his heart; it was not like Chichiri to go back on his word. He could only assume that something had happened to prevent Chichiri from fulfilling his promise, and he knew that whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

Mitsukake sighed. No matter how worried he was about Chichiri, he couldn't help his friend at this point, since he had no idea where Chichiri was right now. So it was for the best that he focus on the Tamahome-Nuriko problem and face the fact that he would have to solve it alone.

It _was_ time that he faced it; it was time that he took drastic measures to keep from losing one or both of his young friends. Tomorrow, he would have to separate the two friends for Nuriko's sake, and drag Tamahome up to stay in his own clinic. Nuriko would be upset, of course, but hopefully, the proximity of Tasuki, Miaka, Hotohori and Chiriko, combined with the familiar surroundings of his own quarters, would help to bring the violet-haired seishi out of his depression. As for Tamahome, he would be under the firm care of Mitsukake himself--and if that meant three force-feedings a day, so be it! Mitsukake could deal with the trauma much better than Nuriko could. And if Tamahome missed his friend so desperately, he could damn well _earn_ visiting privileges with Nuriko by eating a small meal! Mitsukake hated having to be so tyrannical, but no other method had worked with Tamahome so far, and things had come to a desperate pass.

Having made his decision, Mitsukake continued on his rounds. He knew that Hotohori had retired to his suite of rooms for the night, so he had only three more charges to look in on. He quietly opened the door to Chiriko's room. The youngest seishi lay fast asleep in his little bed, a scroll still clutched to his chest. Mitsukake gently pulled the scroll out of his grasp, placing it on the table next to his bed. He paused to lightly run a finger over the boy's still-rounded cheek and brush the bangs out of his eyes. Smiling at the innocent expression on his Chiriko's face, Mitsukake extinguished the lamp and backed out of the room silently.

He continued on his way to check in on Tasuki and Miaka. Remembering last night's surprising revelation (surprising to Hotohori, at least), he decided to knock on the door. Receiving no answer, he opened the door slowly. Tasuki's room was empty, as was the bath chamber. There was a strange lump in the bed, however. Mitsukake pulled back the covers to see Miaka's old bear-doll that she sometimes pulled out of her backpack when they had traveled together. She must have left it behind in Tasuki's room accidentally--or maybe not so accidentally. At any rate, he still didn't know the whereabouts of the last two members of the Suzaku family, although he had a pretty good idea of what they were up to. The greater part of him wanted to just leave them in peace, but he knew that he would be unable to sleep until he was certain that they were safe. Sighing, he continued on his way to Miaka's room, feeling uncomfortably like a reluctant uncle forced into a chaperon's role. As he rounded the corner to the corridor outside Miaka's chambers, he was relieved to see one of the fugitives come into view.

Tasuki backed silently out of Miaka's room, pausing for one last tender look at his priestess as she lay breathing softly in her bed, her auburn locks tumbled wildly around her. As he pulled the door closed, he winced at a sudden twinge in his shoulder. The soft smile on his face turned to one of wicked glee as he recalled his lover sinking her teeth into his shoulder to muffle her cries of ecstasy. He hadn't said anything to her at the time, only groaning at the strangely sensual pain. Nor had he mentioned it later, when he caressed her to sleep. Oh, but _now!_ The ammunition she'd given him for days of merciless teasing!

"Little savage!" he whispered happily, looking forward to retaliating for the trick she'd played on him yesterday evening at the edge of the forest.

Out of nowhere, a large hand clamped down painfully on his shoulder, causing the young seishi to leap ten feet away, whipping out his tessen and pointing it at the shadowed figure. Luckily, he recognized the tall silhouette of the healer before he fried his brother warrior to a crisp. "

"Mitsukake!" he hissed in an angry whisper, not wishing to wake Miaka with the sounds of a loud altercation outside her bedroom door.

"Oh, did I hurt you? I'm so sorry." Mitsukake's solicitous tone was belied by the sparkle of his grin in the moonlight. "Let me take a look at that wound," he urged, coming swiftly up to Tasuki and pulling at the open collar of his shirt, exposing the oval bruise with small indentations around its perimeter. "Ooh, that looks like it hurts! Let me heal that for you right now."

"No!" snapped Tasuki, pulling his shirt closed with the air of an outraged maiden.

Mitsukake laughed. "You want to keep that one, huh? Well, just make sure that you keep yourself covered up around Hotohori; a love bite leaves a rather, shall we say, _distinctive_ mark? We really don't want to go through another dinner like the one last night, do we?"

Tasuki shuddered at the thought of that excruciatingly uncomfortable meal--uncomfortable for him, anyway. Miaka and Chiriko had chatted happily and unconcernedly throughout the meal, but Hotohori just sat silently at the head of the table. Every time that Tasuki looked up from his plate, he'd found himself the object of a royal stare. It unnerved him to the point that he could no longer eat anything, leaving him no other option but to stare down at his plate, waiting for Miaka to finish. Mitsukake had tried to help out by introducing various topics of conversation into the silence, but Hotohori gave only monosyllabic replies while Tasuki had been too unnerved to be coherent.

Tasuki looked up at his friend. "Nah, I couldn't take another one of those. I swear that Hotohori was examining me for the perfect spot to stick his sword for the maximum agonizing effect. I think that he was deciding between disembowelment and castration, and I'm just lucky that he couldn't make up his mind!"

Mitsukake laughed. "I don't think that that's what he was planning. I think he was just trying to figure out what you could have that he doesn't. I mean, he accepted Miaka choosing Tamahome over him because she _did_ meet Tamahome first, but _you!_ A bandit over an emperor? I think that he's completely confused." He smiled to see the blush spread across Tasuki's face, visible even in the moonlight. Mitsukake suddenly remembered his designated role as chaperon and turned serious. "Tasuki, you _are_ keeping the, er, restrictions in mind, aren't you?"

Tasuki blushed again but met Mitsukake's gaze directly. "Yeah, we're being careful. I know what's at stake; we both do. We don't have any intention of messing things up for everybody just to fulfill our own desires. In fact, we stopped sleeping together after yesterday, just in case...well, we don't want to start anything while we're asleep and don't realize what we're doing..." He broke off, embarrassed again.

Mitsukake smiled gently. "That's okay, I know what you mean. And I trust you, Tasuki--both of you. Come on, let's go back."

They walked quietly together, heading back toward Tasuki's room. Mitsukake broke the comfortable silence. "So, how are you coping with the nightmares?" This time, he was truly solicitous.

"They're not so bad; I'm only getting one each night now. I've learned some ways to deal with them. I'm all right; still getting enough sleep, _ Mooooom!_" Tasuki teased.

He decided not to mention that Miaka had left her bear-doll in his room so that he could reach out and touch it when he awoke in the middle of the night. He felt stupid sleeping with a doll; gods, what his sisters would say if they knew! He shuddered at that appalling thought. But last night, when he'd awoken gasping and trembling alone in his bed for the first time in a week, the feel and the scent of the furry creature had reminded him of Miaka, enabling him to relax and return to sleep. He gave an internal shrug; hopefully, the nightmares would soon disappear, and he could return the bear to Miaka before anyone found out about his embarrassing secret.

As the two seishi approached Tasuki's room, they could see the shrine of Suzaku in the distance, set apart from the rest of the palace. To their surprise, light was filtering through the ornate wooden screens that covered the windows of the temple. At that moment, they saw a shadow pass by one of the screens. Mitsukake and Tasuki exchanged glances, then began running toward the shrine, Tasuki drawing the tessen in readiness. They soon arrived at the doors to the shrine, approaching quietly with Tasuki's tessen primed and ready.

Mitsukake suddenly grasped Tasuki's tessen arm and stopped. "Wait!" he hissed.

Tasuki frowned at him in confusion.

Mitsukake straightened, a glowing smile crossing his features. "It's him! I can feel it--his ki! He's back!"

****

The shrine of Suzaku glowed with the light of several oil lamps, the statue of the phoenix-god in its alcove catching the light, gold gleaming and shimmering on its outstretched wings and proudly curved neck. The large dais in the center of the temple still held the huge cauldron-like brazier, its flames long extinguished since the failed summoning of the god. Around these obstacles glided the figure of the monk of Suzaku, moving slowly, carefully. Every movement was calculated to give maximum results with minimum effort, to conserve what little strength he retained after gathering together all of the materials he required for the ritual.

Chichiri fought against the overwhelming fatigue that permeated every part of his body, causing his limbs to tremble and his vision to blur. It had taken every ounce of his will to stand straight and walk firmly out of Taiitsukun's shrine after the destruction of the oni; it wouldn't do to let Taiitsukun know the tremendous physical cost to himself for utilizing the dark powers. Not to mention the cost to his soul. After leaving her shrine, he'd sunk to his knees in the shadows of the trees, gasping for breath and praying for the strength to transport himself back to the Imperial palace. For some reason, Suzaku answered his prayers in spite of the monk's disregard of the guidelines of his god. Chichiri knew that he shouldn't ask for more, yet he couldn't help sending a small prayer for the strength to complete the ritual. He trembled in fear of what his failure might mean.

The monk continued the preparations for the ceremony, taking a slender waxed stick and placing it into the flame burning in the lamp nearest him, lighting the tip. He moved the taper to light the sacred incense, but his hand trembled with exhaustion and extinguished the taper's flame before the incense could ignite. Twice more he tried and failed to light the incense. He bowed his head, wondering wearily how he was going to complete the ritual. He lifted his hand to try once again...but this time his hand trembled so violently that he was unable to even light the taper.

At that moment, a long-fingered hand curved around his, guiding the taper to the lamp, then moving with ritual deliberation to light the sacred incense. Chichiri felt the familiar ki of his younger brother, and his relief was so great that he allowed a tear of exhaustion to escape from his eye. "Tasuki..." he whispered gratefully, lovingly.

He looked up into the amber eyes of his friend, eyes that were widened in concern. At that moment, his strength failed him and he nearly collapsed, feeling himself supported by strong arms that wrapped around him.

Mitsukake's face swam into his vision, frowning with anxiety. "He's exhausted--on the verge of complete physical collapse! Come on, Tasuki, help me take him to his room."

"No!" gasped Chichiri. "I can't stop now. I have to complete the ritual!"

Mitsukake shook his head. "You're not going to do anything until you get some rest. I'm the doctor here, and I'm telling you what _will_ happen. So you may as well accept it."

"No!" Chichiri struggled to make Mitsukake understand him. "The ritual…has to be now! Otherwise...you don't understand…what will happen!"

Mitsukake stooped and reached for Chichiri. "You can explain it to me tomorrow," he said kindly.

Chichiri gazed at him in despair, seeing the healer's large hands reaching out to lift him up, ready to drag him out of the temple--when suddenly the tessen came up and blocked Mitsukake's grasp. Mitsukake looked up in surprise.

Tasuki's voice was even and firm. "If Chichiri says that he has to perform some ritual right now, then that's what he has to do."

"Oh, so you're a doctor now, are you?" Mitsukake snapped at Tasuki angrily. "Can't you see that he's about ready to pass out from exhaustion? From the little I can see, he's also suffering from exposure! Do you want to let him push himself over the edge into a full-blown collapse? Move aside, Tasuki, and let someone who actually _knows_ what he's doing take control here!"

For once, the young seishi didn't react in anger. "I'm not saying that I know anything about doctoring," he replied calmly. "But I know Chichiri, and I know that he wouldn't bullshit us about what is and isn't necessary. So I made up my mind that I'm gonna help him. Now you can either decide to join us, or you can get out--but I'm not gonna allow you to overpower him, got it?"

Mitsukake stared at Tasuki in surprise and with some grudging respect for the young man's unexpected maturity.

Chichiri squeezed Tasuki's arm in gratitude, then smiled up at Mitsukake. "Thanks for your concern, Mitsukake," he murmured softly. "But Tasuki's right--I have to do this, and it has to be tonight. I could really use your help, however, if you don't mind."

Mitsukake sighed. "All right, I know when I'm outnumbered. I'll help, already--but it's against my better judgment, and don't think I won't say 'I told you so!' if you end up bedridden for the next few days!"

Chichiri smiled again in gratitude, forgoing any arguments since he had already gotten his way. He hadn't planned on any assistance during the ritual, but since it was offered, he was glad to accept the help. He mused briefly on the odd way that his prayer for strength had been answered.

Mitsukake frowned as Tasuki helped Chichiri to his feet. "It might help if you'd let us know a little more about this ritual we're about to perform, and why it has to be tonight. At least tell us what happened to bring you here in this weakened state."

Chichiri looked down briefly, then gazed keenly at Tasuki as if trying to decide what he should and shouldn't say.

Tasuki seemed slightly unnerved by the monk's intent stare, so Mitsukake stepped forward and placed a hand on Tasuki's shoulder. "Go ahead, you can tell us. He's stronger than you think."

Chichiri smiled softly. "I can see that. I was surprised to see him so healthy--but also overwhelmingly pleased."

Tasuki gave a short sharp whistle through his teeth. "Hey, guys, I'm standin' right here. You can talk _to_ me as well as _about_ me, ya know!"

The two elder seishi laughed, glad to see their young brother back to his usual lively, combative self.

Chichiri decided to give an edited version of the night's events. "I went to see Taiitsukun, as you know, and found out through my own investigations, as well as from her testimony, that the appearance of the oni in our midst really _was_ a terrible mistake on her part. Much to my relief, it didn't turn out to be part of some larger conspiracy with Seiryuu against us."

He glanced briefly at his young friend. Tasuki had paled slightly but jutted his chin out and clenched his teeth, determined not to flinch. Chichiri continued. "After we retrieved Tamahome's seishi power from the oni," he saw Tasuki's eyes widen in surprise, "I decided to make sure that this particular demon never hurt anyone else again." His voice suddenly went cold and flat. "Ever."

Mitsukake and Tasuki felt a sudden, inexplicable chill and shivered at the aura of darkness that seemed to emanate from their friend. The darkness seemed to fall across Chichiri's features, casting his face into shadow. He lifted his face to the light with an effort, appearing to almost physically push back the shadows. His two brothers stared at him in dismay, frightened for him--and somewhat frightened by him.

Chichiri met their shocked gazes and forced a smile, the last of the darkness fading from his eye. "As you can see," he said softly, "there are some…side-effects, consequences to taking such actions. So it's necessary that I complete this night's work with a ritual purification. The longer I wait to purify myself, the more difficult the purification will be."

Tasuki leaned forward to stare once more into Chichiri's eye. Suddenly, he clapped his hands together. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get this thing rolling!"

Chichiri laughed at his young friend's irrepressible spirit. He pulled both Tasuki and Mitsukake close for a brief hug, feeling his brothers' strength flowing into him, enabling him to stand tall. Then he quietly began to instruct them in the tenets of the purification ritual.

****

The great cauldron in the center of the temple flared with fire again, the wood within it having been sprinkled with sacred oils before being ignited by Tasuki's tessen. Mitsukake held an ancient, delicate scroll as he quietly chanted the words of a sacred sutra. Small tureens of water simmered over open flames, fragrant herbs in the water sending forth scented steam, the white wisps drifting and swirling toward the vaulted ceiling of the sanctuary. The sound of Mitsukake's deep tones chanting the ritual prayers, the scents of the herbs and the incense, the sight of the shadows playing about the walls--all these filled the temple with a mystical aura, at the center of which knelt the figure of the warrior-monk.

Tasuki stood before Chichiri, who knelt on the cold stones of the temple floor, releasing his hair from its usual ponytail. The fine strands of silvery blue silk whispered across his shoulders. He reached up and plucked one hair from his head, holding it out to Tasuki.

Tasuki took the hair, holding it up before his tessen. "Rekka…Shin'en," he whispered quietly.

The tessen flared with a gentle flame, igniting the hair, which hissed in the fire, releasing a black wisp of smoke.

Chichiri frowned in concern. "It's worse than before," he whispered to himself. "Everything must be burned."

He removed his kesa, handing the cloak and his bamboo kasa to Tasuki, who set them off to one side. He began removing the rest of his clothing, handing each item to Tasuki to be thrown into the bright flames of the cauldron. Without interrupting his chanting, Mitsukake looked up to frown at the slight figure of the monk shivering on the cold floor of the temple. Tasuki returned quickly to Chichiri's side, shivering in sympathy with his brother. He snatched up the white silken robe which sat folded beside Chichiri, attempting to wrap up his friend in its heavy folds, but the monk waved him off.

"Not yet," he whispered. "You must put my kesa and hat in the fire now." Removing the prayer beads from around his neck, he handed them to Tasuki. "And don't forget these."

Tasuki was shocked. "Chichiri, those are your magic things! They're your gifts from Suzaku! You can't just burn them like your other things; they're irreplaceable!"

Chichiri smiled. "It will be all right, Tasuki. You'll see. Just do as I ask, please."

Tasuki nodded and moved away, averting his eyes from his brother, who somehow seemed more naked, more exposed and vulnerable without the distinctive prayer beads sitting on his shoulders. The young seishi climbed the four steps to the cauldron at the top of the dais. Lifting the magic items with reluctance, he flung them into the flames. The flames shot up nearly to the top of the temple, stopping just short of singeing the vaulted ceiling. Tasuki leaped back from the cauldron in shock, and Mitsukake faltered in his chants as he stared at the conflagration.

"Mitsukake, please c..c..continue," the monk requested softly, his teeth beginning to chatter as the chill of the temple seeped into every part of his body.

Mitsukake complied, his deep tones once again filling the confines of the temple. The fire leaped and roared, its orange-red hues gradually darkening to deep midnight blue. The midnight flames crackled for a few moments more before shifting to deep violet, the fire pulling back from its impressive height to once again assume its previous position within the confines of the cauldron. The flames hissed and sighed, finally changing to a light silvery-blue which reflected off the faces of the seishi gathered before it. Finally, the fire went out, leaving the temple suddenly dimmed, the only light the soft ,golden glow of the elaborately carved oil lamps.

"Tasuki," called Chichiri. The fiery seishi moved swiftly to his brother's side. "Take the shakujou and pull my things out of the cauldron."

Tasuki's eyes widened but he did as asked, standing up on the dais and fishing around in the cauldron with the shaft of the shakujou. To his amazement, he pulled out the kesa, the hat, and the prayer beads, their surfaces gleaming as if new. He touched them gingerly, expecting to be burned by their heat, but all three items were cool to the touch. He hurried to present them to Chichiri, but once again the monk waved them away.

Chichiri lifted a trembling hand to his head and plucked yet another hair, presenting it to Tasuki. The hair flared in the tessen's flame, sending out a wisp of light grey smoke. The monk sighed.

"Tasuki," he said again. "We have to perform the final step of the ritual."

Tasuki shivered again, and Mitsukake looked up, his chants slowing from weariness and his voice becoming hoarse. But they both nodded at Chichiri, obedient to his wishes.

Tasuki moved behind Chichiri, reaching for a porcelain dipper which sat in a silver tureen of cold crystal water which had been drawn from the spring of Suzaku behind the temple. He lifted the dipper, pouring the water over Chichiri, letting the chilly liquid stream over his brother's hair and face and body.

The monk gasped and trembled, but lifted his face to the icy flow. "Again!" he choked.

Tasuki grimaced but did as requested. Seven more times, Chichiri shivered under the frigid deluge, his teeth chattering violently, his body on the verge of collapse. Finally he reached up a trembling hand to pluck one last damp strand of hair. Tasuki quickly snatched the hair from him, breathing a brief prayer before igniting the tessen. The hair burned smoothly in the divine flame, emitting a wisp of pure white smoke.

Chichiri collapsed, Tasuki catching him just before he struck the floor. The young seishi quickly wrapped him in the thick silk robe, as Mitsuskake rushed up and took him from Tasuki's arms. He lifted the slight form of his brother warrior tenderly, holding him close to his own body in an attempt to warm him. Tasuki ignited the tessen, gently moving the fan to send waves of warmth toward the monk. The three seishi left the sanctuary, Chichiri still clasped to his brother's chest, forming a strange, quiet procession as they returned the monk to the safety of his own room.

****

Mitsukake gently set the monk down on his bed, noting with satisfaction the return of color to Chichiri's formerly bluish lips. Chichiri sighed and tried to sit up, but the doctor pushed him firmly back into a supine position. "Stay here. I'm going to get something to boost your strength and help you to sleep."

Chichiri protested faintly. "You don't have to--"

"Enough!" snapped Mitsukake. "Now it's your turn to listen to _me!_ Tasuki, keep an eye on him and make sure that he doesn't try to do anything stupid!"

Tasuki nodded as the healer left the room. He pulled up a chair and seated himself at Chichiri's bedside.

"Is he gone?" the voice was soft, but strong.

"Uh-huh," replied Tasuki, slightly confused.

Chichiri pushed himself up into a sitting position again, then tried to rise. His legs gave way beneath him, and he would have fallen except for Tasuki's swift arm catching him.

"Hey!" protested the young seishi. "You're not supposed to do anything stupid like that!"

"I just want to see to a few things," Chichiri argued weakly.

"Yeah, well, you keep pullin' shit like that, and guess whose ass is gonna get kicked by the Big Mean Doctor Machine. Not yours--you're not feeling well. No, Doctor Bad-ass is gonna stomp the nearest red-haired seishi to vent his frustrations over disobedient monks. So have some pity on me, Chichiri, and _keep_ your ass in that bed!"

Chichiri couldn't help snickering over Tasuki's accurate assessment of Mitsukake's state of mind. "All right. But may I at least sit up? Or will 'Doctor Bad-ass' consider that unnecessarily dangerous?"

Tasuki smirked. "Probably. You know what a big mother hen he is. I thought that he was gonna pass out from anxiety over you a couple of times during the ritual. But go ahead and sit up anyway; I won't tell 'im if you won't."

Chichiri smiled and pushed himself back into a sitting position. He looked up to see Tasuki's eyes fixed on him in a wondering stare, and cleared his throat. "Tasuki, when Mitsukake said that you were to keep an eye on me, I don't think he meant it quite so literally. The next few minutes are going to become very uncomfortable for both of us if you don't at least _blink._"

Tasuki blushed bright red. "Sorry, 'Chiri. I was just wonderin'…"

"Wondering what?"

Tasuki looked down, embarrassed. "I was wonderin' what all that darkness was around you earlier. What happened? I mean, I _know_ what happened; you told us. But what were those side-effects? Why did you need the purification ritual?"

"I gazed too long into the abyss." Chichiri's voice was hushed, tinged with fear.

"I don't understand," replied Tasuki, looking intently at Chichiri. "Please explain it to me." His voice was soft and humble.

"_'Take care, for if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.'_ That was a valuable warning given to me years ago by a close friend--no, he was more than that. In many ways, he was my best friend, although I never knew his real name. He turned me from the path I had embarked upon. You see, I'd been training to become a powerful mage, learning to wield soul-destroying magic for the greater good--or so I thought at the time. As I said before, this was many years ago when I was young and foolish and eager to take on all the evil in the universe to expiate my own sins."

"Why was that such a bad thing? It sounds kinda...heroic."

"Yes, it does, doesn't it? Heroic and romantic--just the thing to appeal to a young man's wounded heart. But my friend taught me something about seeking out evil just for the pleasure of destroying it, and feeling justified in using any means available to achieve that end. How did he put it again?" Chichiri paused, lost in thought. "Ah, yes: _'He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster.'_"

Tasuki frowned. "That's a strange way of talking; _gaikoku no kotoba, ne?_"

Chichiri smiled. "_Hai,_ he was definitely _gaikokujin._ He was a wanderer, a traveler..."

"Like you?"

Chichiri's eye gazed into the distance, looking into the past. "I believe that he wandered much farther and far longer than I ever will." He recalled the traveler's strange garb, his pale skin and green (or were they blue?) eyes--eyes that held the weight of ages, filled with wisdom, pain and sadness; eyes that contrasted sharply with the deceptively youthful features of his face. And of course, there was the double pulse in his wrist...

Chichiri brought himself back to the present, seeing Tasuki's face peering anxiously at him. "Anyway, as I said, he turned me from that path. But that doesn't mean I've forgotten the ways of dark magic that I had learned up until that point. I just choose not to use that power...at least, not often. My friend was right: there is a price to be paid in walking the paths of darkness, in grappling with the abyss." He bowed his head in weariness.

Tasuki knelt before him. "The price is your soul, isn't it? To use that power, you pay with your soul."

Chichiri raised his head. "Just parts of my soul, not all of it--but it still renders me impure. That's why I needed to purify myself tonight, why I couldn't wait. I needed to reclaim the parts of myself that I had lost."

Tasuki gazed up into Chichiri's face, his eyes glistening with tears. "You did it for me, didn't you? You risked your soul to protect me, to avenge me." His voice was husky, emotional. "I remember that morning, you know. I was so terrified, so hurt and humiliated; I wanted to lose my _mind_ rather than return to that reality! But I heard your voice calling me, felt your arms holding me...and I knew that it was safe to come back. I knew that you would keep me safe. And once you entrusted me to Miaka and Mitsukake, you went alone into the darkness, and you paid the price--and you did it for me!" He caught his breath on a sob. "What have I ever done for you, that I deserve such sacrifices from you? All I've ever done is _ shout_ at you and _argue_ with you--"

"Hush!" Chichiri interrupted the tirade of self-castigation. "You forget your own sacrifices in Kutou! Not to mention how you stood by me just now. But this is not about payback, about exchanging one brave deed for another. You are my brother!" He reached out and ruffled Tasuki's hair. "My noisy, impulsive, hot-headed little brother, but still my brother." Tasuki smiled through his tears. "Whatever is done to you, is done to me. So in avenging you--I avenge myself."

Tasuki couldn't speak, so he just placed his head on Chichiri's knees.

The monk gently stroked the fiery locks. "There is one other thing to remember: you've suffered terribly at the oni's hands, but you're not his only victim. There are others: those who suffered in the past--and those who are suffering now."

Tasuki lifted his head and met Chichiri's gaze. "You mean Tamahome, don't you?" For the first time in days, Tasuki was able to speak his name without flinching. "What would you have me do?" he asked softly.

"I don'tt presume to tell you to do anything; you must make that decision yourself. The only advice I can give you is to look into your heart and do as it tells you. I don't know what that might be; just know that you have my support in whatever you decide."

Tasuki was silent for a moment, absorbing this advice, then looked up at Chichiri again. "I'll think about it; I'll think real hard about it, okay? I know that I've been pushing him out of my mind, but I promise that I'll start thinking about him again--tonight."

Chichiri smiled softly at him. "I don't mean to encourage you to lose sleep over this."

"Why not?" asked Tasuki quietly. "I've been running away from this long enough. I think that it's time I spent some energy on facing the problem instead of running away. Maybe we can all find some resolution this way."

Chichiri placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Tasuki winced, once again reminded of his recent wound, and the monk suddenly grinned at him. "Love bite, huh," he laughed. "Love hurts, right?"

Tasuki blushed, looking at him in surprise. "I didn't think that monks were supposed to know about stuff like that!" he accused.

Chichiri kept grinning. "I have a secret for you, Tasuki." He leaned close to the young seishi's ear and whispered, "I haven't _always_ been a monk, no da!"

Tasuki's eyes widened in surprise and, if possible, in even more admiration for his elder brother. _"Sugoi!_" he said in awe. "Whenever I think I got a handle on you, Chichiri, there's always somethin' else that you surprise me with!"

Chichiri yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. "That's me, the magical mystery monk. Layers upon layers, like an onion," he mumbled sleepily.

There was a soft tap at the door, then Mitsukake entered the room, bearing a small pot steaming with a fragrant herbal infusion, and a tiny porcelain cup. Tasuki rose from Chichiri's bedside, yielding his place to the healer. Mitsukake poured the infusion into the cup and handed it to Chichiri.

Chichiri brought the cup up to his nose and inhaled the fragrance, then frowned. "I have things that I must do tomorrow, Mitsukake," he chided. "I don't want to sleep through the entire morning, no da!"

Mitsukake stared evenly back at the monk. "We survived without you for six days, we can survive a few hours more. You won't be much good to us if you collapse from exhaustion. So drink it, Chichiri: doctor's orders!"

Tasuki looked from one to the other, not understanding the strange tension between the two. Finally, Chichiri yielded, drinking the infusion and handing the cup back to Mitsukake. His eyes began to close almost immediately.

"I'd better go now," whispered Tasuki.

"I'll stay with him for a while; don't worry," Mitsukake whispered back.

Tasuki smiled in gratitude, then walked to the door. He looked back at Chichiri. "_Oyasumi nasai, Onii-san,"_ he said softly.

_"Oyasumi, otouto-kun,"_ came the sleepy reply.

Tasuki smiled lovingly at his brothers, then left the room.

Chichiri blinked sleepily at Mitsukake. "You don't have to stay," he protested faintly.

The doctor shook his head. "You're always looking after all of us," he whispered softly. "It's only right that one of us looks after you."

Chichiri was too tired to argue, so he lay down on his left side. Mitsukake pulled the silken covers up over his shoulders, then sat at Chichiri's bedside, listening to the monk's breaths slow and deepen. Occasionally he reached out and checked his pulse. Finally, he was satisfied that Chichiri was deeply, peacefully asleep. He gazed at his brother's face as it lay on his pillow, the scarred left side hidden from view, the pure right profile looking suddenly younger, as innocent and open as a child's. Suddenly, he felt as if _he_ were the elder brother. Mitsukake brushed the long silver-blue bangs away from Chichiri's face, then yielding to an impulse, bent and kissed the monk's forehead. Chichiri smiled in his sleep.

Mitsukake extinguished the lamp, then walked to the door. _"Oyasumi, Nii-san,"_ he whispered, leaving his brother to sleep peacefully through the moonlit night.

*******

*******

**Glossary of Japanese Terms:**

"gaikoku no kotoba, ne?" - "foreign words, aren't they?"

"Hai...gaikokujin." - "Yes, he was definitely a foreigner."

"Sugoi!" - "Amazing!"

"Oyasumi nasai, Onii-san" - "Good night, elder brother" (respectful)

"Oyasumi, otouto-kun" - "Goodnight, younger brother" (affectionate)

"Oyasumi, Nii-san" - Goodnight, elder brother" (familiar, affectionate)

**Author's Notes: (3-13-02) **Whew! And I thought that Chapter 11 was long! This one is nearly 300 words longer; boy, I really make you guys work! Sorry, folks,but I just couldn't find anywhere to break this chapter in two without breaking up the whole flow of the thing.

First of all, before I forget again (and while we're mentioning Ch. 11), I want to thank Purple Mouse and Kryssa for their beta-reading of Chapter 11. Their comments were excellent and helpful, so if you enjoyed Ch. 11, you should thank them, too! I spaced out last time and forgot to credit them until days after I posted the chapter, so here it is. Thanks again, Mouse-chan, Kris!

Next, I need to credit the source of Chichiri's quotation. Yes, I know that it's Nietzsche, and I would love to make you believe that I sit around and read the works of the great philosophers, but the truth is that I got the quote from an excellent novel by Kate Orman called, "The Left-Handed Hummingbird" (copyright 1993, Virgin Publishing). She is a personal hero of mine, having started out by writing fanfiction before graduating on to become a professional novelist. Her work is always emotional and intelligent, and she portrays the hero of her novels better than anyone else can, making him live and breathe and bleed.

So, who is the hero of her novels? (Dang, I just let it slip!) It's the same "friend" that rescues Chichiri from his darker path. Who is this mysterious traveler in time and space? (Dang, I just told you again!) Really, I'll be stunned if any of you recognize him. I can't say anymore without the BBC coming after me, but he will reappear in a fic I'm planning which will cover this period in Chichiri's life in more detail. So, can anyone say "crossover"?

Finally, sorry for the long wait for this chapter: real life intrudes, including a really bad case of laryngitis. I will be better, I promise. I hope to get the next chapter out by the end of next week. Mouse-chan, Ryuen, everybody: next chapter--Nuriko!

Plus the time is fast approaching when I prove once and for all that I really _do_ love Tamahome! I really do! (Author scowls at the skeptical expressions on Chao-chan's and Chichiri's Girl's faces.) Come _ON!_ In the timeline of this fic, he's only been in prison for six days now!

Ja ne, minna!

Roku


	16. Chapter 13 Consolation

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Musical Selection: "Songs from a Secret Garden" by Secret Garden from the CD "Songs from a Secret Garden. " (Whew, try saying _that_ five times fast! Reminds me of Ryuen's "Shichiseishi, shichiseishi, shichiseishi Suzaku! sung to the tune of Bohemian Rhapsody in her fic "The FY Variety Hour.")

*******

**CHAPTER 13.** **Consolation **(Nuriko, Hotohori)

The mid-morning sun slanted through the windows set high in the walls of the bath chamber, casting a golden spotlight on the figure who knelt on the ornate tiles, pouring dipperfuls of water over dark hair shimmering with violet light. If one were to spy on the slight figure, one would stand spellbound, believing that he had disturbed a magical entity at its toilette. The cascading fall of violet-tinted hair that fell past its waist, veiling the delicate features set in a heart-shaped face; the graceful curve of its neck flowing into slender shoulders; the delicate hands matched by equally delicate feet which then led into elegantly curving calves - all these bespoke the feminine aspects of its being. But the entity was also obviously masculine, as evidenced by his slightly too-long arms, especially in the length between shoulder and elbow, giving him the slight gangliness of the adolescent male; the defined muscles of his lean thighs leading up into boyishly narrow hips; and of course, his smooth, flat chest, marked with the sign of the willow over his heart. Masculine and feminine principles meeting in this one body, yin and yang blending harmoniously to form a creature of otherworldly beauty: such was the true appearance of the third seishi of Suzaku.

One might also observe the care with which he caressed his hair and rinsed it repeatedly to send sweet almond oil swirling toward the drain tiles, and mistakenly interpret his gestures as vanity, absorption in his own beauty--unless one happened to glimpse his eyes, not bright with self-satisfaction but rather cloudy with memory, his gaze turned inward, dreaming of the past. As he gently squeezed the water from his hair, then pressed the silken strands between the soft folds of a thick towel, his meticulous movements seemed reverential, as if instead of handling his own hair, he was caressing the hair of a beloved companion.

In Nuriko's mind, that was exactly what he was doing.

He could never touch his hair nor gaze at it unbound without the sight and feel of it bringing back vivid memories of his beloved Kourin. It was one of the many characteristics that he and Kourin shared: the abundant violet hair that grew thick and luxurious, falling to the waist in Kourin's case. But as for Ryuuen; well, hair so long and thick was not considered masculine, so every three months or so, their father would cut Ryuuen's hair back to shoulder length and have it bound tightly in the top-knot worn by all the other boys in the city. Kourin would weep each time their father cut her brother's hair, trying futilely to gather up the six-inch tresses as they drifted across the floor.

Ryuuen would do his best to comfort her. "Don't cry, Kouri-chan. It will grow back; it always does. So don't cry...Here, let me brush your hair for you; that will make us both feel better, ne?"

She would smile through her tears, fetch the brush, and unpin her hair, letting it tumble down her back like skeins of unbound silk. He would brush her hair reverently, feeling the silken strands whisper through his fingers as they communed in silence, sharing the unique bond that made them more like soulmates than siblings.

After her death--Nuriko's eyes darkened as he remembered those desolate, empty days--after her death, he swore never to cut his hair again, holding on to his tresses as the last remnants of her in his life. Even as he assumed her identity, donning her dresses and imitating her mannerisms, these acts still did not keep her memory as vibrantly alive as the feel of his own hair. His father had beaten him the first few times that he'd been caught wearing his sister's clothes, but soon gave up as the beatings had little effect on Ryuuen.

Ryuuen never cried out at the pain. What pain could be worse than the torment of losing the one he loved most in this life? He merely returned to doing all he could to keep the memory of Kourin alive, and his father watched silently as his second son let his hair grow long and full. The man never again remonstrated with Ryuuen about his appearance.; he just grew ever more silent as the months passed, watching his son turn into his lost daughter. Ryuuen had taken the silence as disapproval, but sometimes, if he turned quickly, he'd catch his father gazing at him with something akin to longing in his eyes.

Now Nuriko, eight years older and considerably more mature, wondered if he had been unfair to his father; if perhaps his father had mourned his lost child as strongly as had Ryuuen. If he had, he would have found little sympathy from his friends and customers; they would not understand the point in mourning for a girl-child when he had two fine sons. So perhaps his father's silence had not been disapproval but rather suppressed grief, grief compounded by the fact that he had ended up losing his second son in addition to his daughter.

After a few years had passed, Ryuuen's parents were forced to send him away to live with his uncle and aunt. He now went by the name of Kourin, and there was some confusion in the minds of long-time friends as to whether it was Kourin or Ryuuen who'd died in the street on that long-ago day. But a few customers remembered, and Ryuuen's elder brother Rokou had become the subject of taunts and beatings as the brother to an "okama." The same bullies would never taunt Ryuuen himself; they were too fearful of his swift and strong retaliation. But the miserable whining of Rokou, combined with the now alarming appearance of suitors for "Lady Kourin's" hand, had forced Ryuuen's parents to take action and send their second son/daughter away before scandal forced them to lose their business. Ryuuen was glad to go; he wanted to fully become Kourin, and now was his chance to get away from people who tied him to his former masculine identity.

Nuriko dressed himself carefully, trying to suppress the memories of that adventure in the mountains, not wanting to remember how he had loved and lost a sister yet again. He pushed his mind to the following weeks, when he'd first become a member of the Imperial harem, and when he'd first laid eyes on the man who would forever hold his heart. He knew full well what a risk it was for him to attempt to deceive the emperor of Konan; Nuriko's greatest victory, being chosen as Empress, would inevitably become his downfall, as the Emperor would have him executed for his deceit. However, at that point in time, Nuriko cared little for his life, still in mourning for his friend Byakuren.

Yet the "Lady Kourin" held herself apart from the other concubines, keeping to her quarters, never sharing the communal baths, partaking only minimally in court gossip--and gaining a reputation as a difficult and proud woman. Some of the concubines hated her for her aloofness, while others foresaw her as the future Empress and tried to court her favor. Because she stayed out of the inner social circle, she never really learned that much about the Emperor himself--only that he was young and equally as aloof as she. So it came as a shock to Nuriko, on the day of his formal presentation to Emperor Saihitei, to look up into the golden eyes of a boy his own age instead of a young man several years older. Nor was he prepared for the overwhelming beauty of the youth, beauty that rivaled his own. Nuriko remembered little of what Saihitei had said to him; he was so lost in admiration that he was only vaguely aware of the words of kind but cool welcome and completely unaware of his own stammered replies.

Nuriko smiled as he remembered the first time that the two had ever really talked to each other. Closing his eyes, he let memory carry him back in time to a warm, jasmine-scented night almost two years ago...

It had been a moonlit night, and Nuriko had slipped out of the concubine quarters to catch a breath of fresh air, wandering stealthily around the palace grounds, inhaling the intoxicating scents of jasmine and gardenia and feeling free for the first time in months. When he'd decided to join the Imperial harem, he had not realized that he was voluntarily walking into a prison: a luxurious silk-lined prison, but a prison nonetheless. The sense of confinement was choking him, and he'd been willing to take any risk just to get free, if only for a few stolen minutes.

As he walked along the moonlit path, he thought that he heard movement behind him, so he whirled around, backing away as he nervously eyed the surrounding trees. To his shock and terror, he felt himself bump into a warm body. He began to shriek in surprise, but a large hand clamped down over his mouth, and he was dragged back into the bushes.

"Hush!" whispered a velvety voice, and Nuriko ceased his struggles, unwillingly captivated by the smooth tones.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel path, and Nuriko recognized the booted feet of an Imperial guard, peering suspiciously into the greenery until he moved on to continue his nightly rounds. Nuriko heard a soft sigh of relief from his captor and wondered whether he was being held by a thief--or an assassin. The thought of someone trying to harm the emperor filled him with rage. Grasping the arms that surrounded him, he pulled hard, bending over and flipping his captor over his head, the man landing on his back with a muffled "Oof!" Nuriko moved swiftly, pinning the man to the ground with his skirted knee, then placing the outer edge of his right hand against the man's throat.

Dark golden eyes stared up into his, wide with surprise, the shock soon mirrored in his own violet eyes as Nuriko recognized the man he had thrown.

"Heika!!" gasped Nuriko, his shock and dismay driving his voice up into the upper ranges, making him sound exactly like the concubine he pretended to be. He quickly removed his knee from Saihitei's chest and pulled the young emperor to his feet, frantically dusting off his royal garments.

The dark golden eyes creased in amusement, Saihitei catching Nuriko's hands to stop his frantic ministrations. "Shhh, it's alright," he tried to reassure his panicked concubine. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you."

Nuriko stared at the emperor, noting the long unbound chestnut hair and the amusement in the beautiful eyes, feeling the warmth of the elegant hands as they grasped his own...and felt something inside his heart go "click" as he suddenly experienced a sense of connection that had been missing from his life since Kourin's death. It was as if he recognized Saihitei on some deep spiritual level, recognized him as a soulmate--or a long-lost love from a former life. A blush spread across his face, visible even in the moonlight, and the emperor smiled at his concubine's discomfiture.

Saihitei inclined his head in an exaggerated formal nod. "Lady...Kourin, I believe?" he asked, his voice lilting with soft mockery and genuine amusement. Nuriko blushed even more and nodded dumbly. Saihitei continued. "What, may I ask, are you doing wandering around the palace grounds at night, skulking in the shadows and hiding from the Imperial guard?"

Some demon of self-destruction suddenly took over Nuriko's brain, and he saw standing before him a boy of his own age, taller, yes, and heart-stoppingly beautiful--but still just a peer, a youth no more mature than himself. Before he could stop himself, Ryuuen came to the forefront and answered the emperor's accusations with one of his own. "I might ask the same of you, heika. Why should an emperor fear his own guard? It seems that I'm not the only one trying to hide tonight."

Saihitei's eyes widened briefly at his concubine's spirited reply, then narrowed in amusement again. "You're right, it seems that we both have something to hide. So why don't you tell me your secret, and I'll tell you mine?"

Nuriko swallowed, suddenly realizing the impropriety of his remarks to the Emperor. "H-heika!" he stammered. "I apologize profusely for my insolence--"

"No, don't try to pull that shy, stammering act on me now; I've already seen your true self, and you can't hide from me. I've also felt your unusual... strength," he laughed ruefully, rubbing his back. "So, come on," his voice suddenly held the wheedling, teasing note of a normal 16-year-old boy, "tell me your secrets, and we'll see if we're kindred spirits."

Nuriko blushed again, his heart hammering at Saihitei's words, words surprisingly close to his own thoughts of a few moments ago. He decided to be honest, casting caution to the wind. "I just feel so trapped sometimes, heika; every minute of every day is restricted, my behavior so carefully observed and corrected that sometimes I just feel like I have to get away from it all!" He realized that he had just indicted the entire concubine system to its master, and flinched in anticipation of Saihitei's reaction.

But the golden eyes just grew sad, looking inward instead of out. "You may find this hard to believe, Lady Kourin, but I know exactly how you feel--like a bird in a cage, ne? And we can both name every bar of that cage, can't we? Duty, honor, responsibility, propriety; we can go on and on, but it doesn't make us any freer, does it?"

Nuriko's eyes widened at Saihitei's comprehension of his feelings, and at the strange sensation that gripped him as he felt his heart almost literally leave his body, leaving to settle in the unknowing grasp of the man who smiled at him in the moonlight. He felt uncertain, dizzy, confused; he'd never felt attracted to a man before! Ryuuen's assumption of Kourin's identity had nothing to do with a secret desire to be with men - he had merely wanted to _be_ Kourin, who happened to be a girl. But with recognition of his love came clarity: what he felt toward Saihitei was a meeting of souls, and the packaging of the soul had nothing to do with the intensity of his love. He would have loved Saihitei if Saihitei had been a woman instead of a man, and the same went for his own sexual identity. Nuriko felt the first tremulous stirrings of joy in his heart.

Saihitei continued, unaware of the sudden turmoil in his companion's breast. "So we _are_ kindred spirits, both seeking at least a temporary escape." He smiled sadly at his concubine. "There is no true escape for me--at least not yet. But perhaps I can help you; perhaps I can release you from your obligation, so that you can return home."

Nuriko felt his world crash as suddenly as it had been uplifted. He blanched in the moonlight, his violet eyes filling helplessly with tears. "No, please, heika--please don't send me away! I have no other home now; I have no one!" he gasped.

Saihitei reached out and wiped the tears from the beautiful violet eyes. "Hush, don't cry," he soothed. "I don't mean to upset you! You may stay if you wish, but there really is no future in being a concubine. I will tell you my secret: I have no intention of choosing a bride from the ranks of the royal concubines. I'm waiting for someone..." his voice trailed off and a faraway look entered his eyes.

Nuriko was surprised by the sudden pain in his heart, and the novel sensation of jealousy. "Someone?" he echoed, his voice suddenly raspy with suppressed pain. "A noble lady?"

Saihitei smiled. "I don't know," he murmured, then laughed at the confused look on Nuriko's face. "It's true; I do not know her yet. She is a lady of prophecy: the Priestess of Suzaku."

"She will come here from another world..." murmured Nuriko, familiar with the legends of Suzaku--as well he should have been, being a celestial warrior himself.

Saihitei stared at Nuriko. "You are a woman of many secrets, Lady Kourin. It seems that you are destined to always surprise me."

Nuriko smiled at the unconscious irony of Saihitei's remark. "You have no idea," he murmured. He pictured the Priestess of legend: a mystical woman, no doubt, willowy, graceful, intelligent...magical. How could he ever hope to compete with such an ideal of female perfection--and how could he even _consider_ competing with his own priestess, to whom he would owe his allegiance? Feeling the sudden onset of grief at losing Saihitei so soon after finding him, Nuriko began to back away, back onto the path that led to the concubine quarters.

"It's time for me to return," he said hesitantly, then felt himself pulled backwards for the second time that night. He glanced back to see the glaring eyes of the Imperial guard, who held his arm in an iron grip.

"Here, I knew I heard something before! What are you doing out here, my _Lady_?" The guard's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Did you come to meet someone? Someone from _Kutou_, perhaps?"

Nuriko gasped, realizing his compromising position. "No one; I'm alone!" he stammered, willing Saihitei to slip away before he was also apprehended and placed in an embarrassing position. "I just wanted a breath of fresh air!"

"Oh, and there's no fresh air in the concubine gardens?" snarled the guard. "Let's see how much you appreciate the _fresh air_ in the Imperial prisons!"

Suddenly there was a blur of motion, and Saihitei stood before the guard, his sword pointed at the man's throat. "Unhand the lady," he commanded in his velvety voice.

The guard paled, dropping Nuriko's arm immediately. "H-h-heika!" he stammered. "I had no idea that you--you and she--that you two were..."

"Stop while you're ahead--and while you still have a head," Saihitei warned in a silky voice. "I will hear no slander against the Lady Kourin, _especially_ not if it involves me. Neither she nor I have done anything to dishonor her good name--and if I hear any gossip to the contrary, I will know where to look for the source! Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, heika!"

"Good. Now there is one thing you may tell your fellow guards: Lady Kourin is to have free access to any of the palace grounds at any hour she chooses, and she need not answer to any of you. This is by my command, and I expect to be obeyed. Is there any question you may wish to ask me?"

Nuriko blinked at the sudden arrogance in Saihitei's tone. The guard paled yet again at having offended the Emperor. "No, heika; everything is perfectly clear!"

"Very well. I expect you to escort the lady back to her quarters--unless she chooses to go elsewhere." He raised an eyebrow at Nuriko, who shook his head dumbly, still overwhelmed by the recent turn of events. Saihitei finally smiled once again. "Well, good night, then, Lady Kourin."

"Good night..." Nuriko trailed off, uncertain of what else to say. As he walked away with the guard, he turned back to look once more at the young emperor. Saihitei met his gaze with another smile--and gave him a wink.

Nuriko shook himself, then returned to the present and his task of combing his hair. He and Saihitei had never had the chance to speak to each other in private again, the increasing tensions between Kutou and Konan now occupying nearly all of the emperor's time. Nuriko felt that Saihitei had probably forgotten about him, but he never forgot that night, that glimpse into the young emperor's soul. No matter how vain or aloof Saihitei appeared to the rest of the world, Nuriko always remembered the youth trapped beneath the crown--and he always loved that kindred soul, if only from a distance. He would often walk through the Imperial gardens at night, hoping to once more encounter the man he had grown to love, but Saihitei could no longer escape his responsibilities, not even in the dead of night.

So it was that they never formed the friendship that might have been, not until they set out on their adventures with the Priestess of Suzaku. Nuriko laughed suddenly--his first real laugh in the past three days--at the thought of his and Hotohori's expectations of the embodiment of the Priestess, compared to the reality that was Miaka. Cute rather than beautiful, short rather than willowy, plain-spoken, impulsive, fun-loving, clumsy and forever hungry! No, she was hardly the mystical lady of prophesy they had expected...and yet she was so much more. She was all heart; her loving nature provoking a similar response in all who came to know her, even if they had no intention of even liking her. Nuriko smiled again at the memory of his determination to hate her, once he had met her and found her unworthy (in his mind) of his emperor. No matter how much he'd tried to hurt her and shut her out, she kept stumbling clumsily into his life, breaking down his barriers until she made a place for herself in his heart. Was it any wonder that she'd also managed to captivate an emperor, a young warrior who claimed to love only money, and now a bandit who claimed to hate women?

The smile left Nuriko's face as he thought of Tasuki and Miaka...and Tamahome. Bleakness settled in his heart once again as he thought of his close friend's inconsolable pain. He felt as if Tamahome were dying...and as if he himself was crying out warnings to all their friends but going unheard, his screams remaining nightmarishly silent. But that wasn't quite right, was it? In fact, their fellow seishi and miko had tried to reach out to Tamahome, but it was Nuriko himself who stood in their way, enforcing Tamahome's command to be left alone. Nuriko frowned in confusion as he was once more filled with doubt. Was he doing the right thing, staying by Tamahome's side as his only friend? Or was he assisting Tamahome in his increased isolation, becoming an accessory to his friend's slow suicide? Oh, gods, he needed to talk to someone, to get advice about this situation!--and he knew who it was that he so desperately needed to see. But as far as he knew, there was still no word from Chichiri, bringing yet another pang of worry and fear to Nuriko's heart. Was the monk supposed to be gone this long? Perhaps he should question Mitsukake, the last person to talk to Chichiri before he'd left on his mission. He knew that he should probably put his trust in Mitsukake and ask his advice about Tamahome--the healer had obviously worked wonders with Tasuki--but Nuriko couldn't help but feel a closer bond with Chichiri, especially since becoming the sorcerer's apprentice one week ago.

Nuriko winced at a sudden pain in his middle, the result of all his worries pouring into his empty stomach. Gods, he was starving himself almost as much as Tamahome! The last thing he needed was to be confined to Mitsukake's clinic, helpless and unable to do anything for Tamahome. He knew that he had better get something to eat before returning to his friend's side, and Tamahome had gently urged Nuriko to leave him alone for awhile, asking for some privacy. So Nuriko headed toward the palace dining hall, leaving his damp cascade of violet hair unbound so that the thick strands could dry faster outside the confines of his now customary braid.

The late morning sun was shining through the tall, narrow windows of the dining hall, casting bright light on some parts of the long room but leaving the head of the dining table in shadow. Nuriko trudged wearily into the room for the first time in more than a week. For the past week, he'd been sending servants to the kitchens to fetch meals, then having them deliver the food to his room to keep the servants from knowing that he and Tamahome were actually staying in the palace prison. It was almost comforting to step into familiar surroundings where everyone had shared so much laughter and camaraderie in the not-so-distant past. He didn't expect to encounter any of his fellow seishi at this odd hour--it was far too late for breakfast and still too early for lunch--and only hoped to request a little rice or soup from the kitchen staff. For that reason, he was startled to see a familiar figure seated at the shadowed far end of the table, long hair flowing over his shoulders as he contemplated his steepled fingers.

"Your Highness!" stammered Nuriko. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

The figure looked up, equally startled, the dark golden eyes widening in surprise...and in pleasure? Nuriko thought that he must be imagining things, and began backing out of the room.

"Don't go, Nuriko." The velvety voice captivated Nuriko as always. Hotohori rose from his chair to lead the weary seishi to the seat next to him. "You didn't disturb me. I was hoping for someone to join me...and I'm glad that it's you. I...I've missed seeing you for such a long time now."

Nuriko's heart thumped in surprise. Ever since they had returned from Choko, Hotohori, although unceasingly kind, was careful to keep a certain distance between them. It had cost Nuriko many tears, as he recognized the loss of the close camaraderie and friendship that they'd just begun to share...but he also understood that it was Hotohori's way of gently rejecting his love. What other choice had Nuriko but to accept the rejection as gracefully as he could? So he was surprised and not a little confused by the sudden warmth in Hotohori's voice.

"You look tired," Hotohori continued, peering into Nuriko's face with concern. "Have you eaten anything today?" Nuriko shook his head. "Then let me get you a bowl of rice to hold you until lunch. The kitchen staff should have lunch ready in about an hour, but I'll go back there and see what they may have ready in the meantime."

Nuriko's eyes widened at the thought of the consternation in the kitchen should the emperor suddenly appear in person to beg a bowl of rice. "No, heika, it's alright; I can wait until lunch. I was just hoping for a little quiet time."

"Of course," said Hotohori quickly. "Would you mind very much if I shared that time with you?"

Nuriko was charmed as usual by the emperor's gentle politeness, a characteristic at odds with his position as the most powerful man in Konan. "I would be glad of your company, heika," he replied warmly.

"Let's get out into the fresh air and sunshine." Hotohori took Nuriko's arm and steered him through the doors that led to the balcony that overlooked the east lawn of the palace.

The late morning sun shimmered on the east lawn of the palace, reminding Nuriko of that afternoon three days ago, when he had briefly flown away from his troubles. Now, as it had then, the fresh air began to lift his spirits, the comforting feelings enhanced by the presence of the man who stood close beside him, no longer keeping the previous distance between them. Nuriko breathed in deeply, feeling the sunshine warming his back and drying his hair. He ran his fingers through the heavy strands to let the breeze flow freely between his tresses...and caught the emperor gazing at him with something like wonder in his eyes. Hotohori suddenly blushed, and Nuriko blushed in response.

"I'm sorry," Hotohori said softly. "I didn't mean to stare--but I haven't seen you with your hair like this since you left the concubine quarters."

Nuriko couldn't think of any reply to this startlingly personal remark, so he just gave Hotohori a tremulous smile.

Still embarrassed, Hotohori changed the subject. "So how are you doing, Nuriko?" Nuriko lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. "And Tamahome?" Hotohori continued.

Nuriko closed his eyes, feeling the pain take hold of his heart once again. "Not good, I'm sorry to say, heika; not good at all."

Neither of them noticed the figure who had entered the dining hall and now stood in the shadows, listening transfixed to their conversation as it drifted in through the open doors to the balcony.

Nuriko continued, his expression darkening. "Although Chichiri successfully exorcised the oni a week ago, Tamahome still refuses to leave his cell. He knows full well that he is no longer a danger to anyone, so I know the reason he stays in prison is to punish himself. Each day, he slips a little deeper into his depression: he sleeps far too much, refuses to attend to his personal appearance, refuses to see anyone except for me, and has stopped eating for the past five days. I wish that I could talk him into coming out just for a little while, maybe to get some fresh air and feel the sun once again--but he's terrified! And I know what frightens him the most: the thought that he will turn a corner and come face-to-face with Tasuki. I myself don't know what would transpire between the two should that occur--but Tama can't run away forever...unless he chooses to run away into death!" Tears began to slip from Nuriko's eyes. "If he doesn't start eating again on his own, I'm going to have to do what we did yesterday and hold him down while Mitsukake tries to force-feed him--and I can tell you that the experience was the closest I've come to hell on this earth since I arrived at the palace! If Chichiri doesn't return soon with some solution to our problems, I don't know what I'm going to do!" Nuriko sobbed, unable to stop himself.

Suddenly, two arms surrounded him and pulled him into a warm embrace. Hotohori held Nuriko close, stroking his hair as Nuriko cried against his chest. Once again, neither noticed the figure in the dining hall, who turned and strode out of the room.

After a while, Nuriko calmed and realized who was comforting him. "Heika, I...I apologize..." he stammered.

"No, please don't apologize--and don't pull away either, Nuriko. This is the first useful thing I've done since this whole tragedy transpired." Hotohori's arms tightened around Nuriko. "You are all working so hard to make things right again: Chichiri on his mission; Mitsukake, Miaka and Chiriko with Tasuki; you with Tamahome. Only I stand alone off to the side, useless. If I can offer you even a moment's respite from your cares, then perhaps I can justify my existence as a Suzaku seishi after all."

"Heika!" protested Nuriko, shocked. "How can you think that? It is you who shelters us, binding us all together. It is your calm wisdom that keeps Konan apparently normal, hiding our troubles from Kutou. Without you and your wise rule, we would truly be lost!"

Hotohori tightened his grip on Nuriko once again. "Thank you. Thank you for your kind words and encouragement. Even in the depths of your pain and exhaustion, you still reach out to comfort me. Do you have any idea of how much I depend on you?"

Nuriko pulled away, suddenly shy, his heart racing. He began to walk slowly along the balcony, but turned back and smiled over his shoulder at Hotohori. Hotohori took the invitation and caught up to Nuriko, matching his pace. They walked in silence for a while, not touching but enjoying their sudden closeness.

Nuriko noticed the emperor's simple clothes for the first time. "I haven't seen you in those clothes since our adventure to gather the shichiseishi! You look good like that," he blushed suddenly at his words, and tried to cover his embarrassment by saying quickly, "but isn't it shocking to the palace staff to see you out of your Imperial robes?"

Hotohori shrugged, moving comfortably in his commoner's clothes, his long hair swaying around him. "I've decided not to concern myself with what the servants think; I _am_ the Emperor after all, and I should be able to do as I choose." His dark gold eyes twinkled, belying the arrogance of his words. "To tell you the truth, I put on these garments to make myself feel better. It was while wearing these clothes that I felt the most useful, the most like a true seishi of Suzaku--and it was while wearing these clothes that I felt closest to you." His gentle voice became wistful. "We were comrades then, weren't we? We were friends…"

Nuriko stared at Hotohori in surprise. "Heika, I thought that you considered me a…bother, an embarrassment: your ex-concubine-turned-seishi, always hanging on your robes." He tried to sound as if he were joking, but Hotohori caught onto the suppressed pain in his voice.

He turned and caught Nuriko's hands in his own. "Nuriko, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way I made you feel."

At that moment, the sound of childish laughter floated up to the balcony, and they saw Miaka chasing Chiriko across the velvet lawn as they ran to the palace for lunch.

A shadow crossed Hotohori's face. "I, too, know how it feels to be rejected," he whispered, his eyes lingering on Miaka for a moment. "First in favor of Tamahome, now in favor of Tasuki; it seems there really aren't any advantages in being Emperor, are there?" He smiled at Nuriko, but Nuriko's eyes were sad. Remorseful, Hotohori squeezed Nuriko's hands again. "That's why you mean so much to me, Nuriko. You see me for the man I am, with my weaknesses and vanity--and you love me anyway. I often wish," he pulled Nuriko to his chest again, "that I could be free to show you just how important you are to me."

Nuriko could feel Hotohori's heart beating rapidly against his own. Could this possibly mean…? His heart rate picked up to match the emperor's.

"But even now, my counselors badger me for a royal marriage and an heir. They see war with Kutou approaching rapidly, and they want to make sure that I produce a replacement for myself should I fall in battle." Hotohori's smile was tinged with bitterness. "Thus, as I prepare myself to bend to their will and the will of Konan, I ask myself: am I a responsible ruler…or a wretched coward?"

Nuriko looked up into Hotohori's face to see a tear escape from the beautiful golden eyes. He reached his hand up and caught the tear on his finger, watching it sparkle in the sunlight like a diamond. "You are no coward, Saihitei," he murmured softly. "Just a bird in a gilded cage; a bird who clips his own wings for the sake of others."

Hotohori smiled down at Nuriko, then, catching his hand in his own, flung the tear to fall sparkling through the air until it was lost to sight. "I knew that you would understand me, Ryuuen. And I like it when you call me by my name."

"You know that I'll always be here for you, Saihitei," promised Nuriko, looking up at the man who would forever hold his heart.

"Yes…and that's what makes this life bearable for me." Hotohori took Nuriko's hand and turned back toward the dining hall. "Now let's get you something to eat before Miaka finishes it all!"

They laughed happily, then took off for the dining hall at a run, still clasping hands.

*******

*******

**Glossary of Japanese Terms:**

okama - homosexual; crossdresser

Heika - Your Majesty; respectful form of address to the emperor

**Author's notes: (3-25-02)** Here goes another long chapter…and another long set of author's ramblings!

First of all, I'm sorry that I've been gone for so long, but I've been grappling with illness in my nearest and dearest (nothing serious, thank God, and it's all better now!) so I haven't had time to even make it into work for the first few days of last week. So please forgive me for the long delay, although the one I really should beg forgiveness from is Tamahome, since I won't be able to get to him before Easter as I originally intended! But I _will _post my Tamahome chapter immediately after the holiday, so the good news is that the Easter Bunny is bringing back Tamahome from his long hiatus in time for spring break! And I did miss him--really, I did. As I said before, I love him! Hell, I love ALL of the Suzaku crew!

Next, I'm truly shaking in my boots at my attempt to tackle the Nuriko/Hotohori relationship, especially with my "additions" to Nuriko's past. So, let me have it, all you Nuri experts! I can take it! Chao-chan has conditioned me to take the odd shot to the jaw! and to lower regions, too! (the sound of a drill starts up in the distance as Chao-chan dons a goalie mask.)

As for the references to Nuriko's past adventures while living with his aunt and uncle, including his friendship with the doomed Byakuren: I got that from the plot of his gaiden novel, Gaiden 3, Yukiyasha Den, which I found (just last Friday) on a wonderful website called Dedication: A Shrine to Nuriko. See, I told you that I'm a research nerd! Maybe all of you already know the details of Nuriko's past, but I truly didn't, so this is info for the uninformed, like me!

Speaking of being a research nerd, I've noticed some input about Chichiri's killer line at the end of Ch. 11 resembling a line from The Count of Monte Cristo. Well, you may possibly have noticed that I'm just the _slightest _bit _anal_ about crediting all my sources, so please believe me when I tell you that any resemblance between the two is completely coincidental. I have not seen The Count of Monte Cristo, although I did read the novel over ten years ago, although I honestly don't remember that line from the book. Maybe great minds just think alike…or maybe feeble minds think in clichés…boo hoo!

And while we're talking about past chapters, let me congratulate Mirth for recognizing the Doctor as Chichiri's friend from Ch. 12, and for nailing him at his eighth incarnation even though I threw out a red herring by referring to the novel featuring his seventh persona! Good work, Mirth! Excellent taste in literature there…and in music, too, since you also referred to _Cursum perficio_ in your review of Ch. 11! And yes, the crossover story is definitely brewing in my beady little mind, so never fear; some day, after the conclusion of White Stones, I will begin working on it, I promise!

Finally, at the end of this week, I'm posting a little interlude to answer Chao-chan's demand to know when EXACTLY Miaka learned Tasuki's real name. It takes place in the timeline before Ch. 10, Enchantment, and shows that if two people spend time in the same bed together, and they're not "doing the nasty", they may possibly _talk_ to each other and so learn something about each other! So be happy, Chao-chan! (grins)

Ja ne, everybody!

Roku


	17. Interlude: What's in a Name?

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Author's Note: I've written this little interlude (which takes place earlier in the storyline, after Chapter 7, Physician, and before Chapter 10, Enchantment) for Chaotic Serenity, who can't seem to get enough of Tasuki and Miaka in bed! Just _kidding_, Chao-chan; I know how you feel about this alternate couple in this timeline! (Glomps Chao-chan and musses her hair.) But you did demand to know _exactly_ how Miaka came to know Tasuki's given name, so I, as Queen of this Storyline, choose to answer you! On with the show!

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**Interlude: What's in a name? **(Tasuki, Miaka)

He emerged from the bath chamber clad only in his sleep trousers, shaking the last droplets of water from his long bangs and drying his chest with a small towel. She looked up from the strange square scroll she'd been reading to give him a warm smile as she shifted her position in the bed to make room for him. A familiar thrill vibrated through him, the same thrill that passed through him each time he saw her waiting in his bed. He pulled on his sleep shirt, then scooted under the covers to join her.

"What're you reading?" he asked casually, firmly suppressing the loopy grin that threatened to take over at the thought of them acting like an old married couple.

"Homework," she sighed. "I have to learn all these history facts to pass my high school entry exams when I get back."

A sudden flash of pain lanced through him at the thought of her leaving. But he knew that he had no right to press her to stay; after all, she'd been honest with him about being unable to make any promises. Forcing back the sudden bleakness in his heart, he changed the subject before she could see his pain.

"They really work you hard in your world! You say that you have to go to school all day, then study all night? Man, that sucks!"

She smiled at him. "Well, yes, it used to seem really hard to me--until I came here. You have it much harder, Tasuki. I mean, my mom still looks after me and pays for everything: roof over my head, food, clothing. You've been working ever since you were a child, haven't you?"

He leaned back against the pillows, thinking about his former life. "Yeah, I guess I worked pretty hard on the farm--but all the kids did, so it wasn't like I had it worse than any of my friends. And then, the bandit business...hell, once I got past my apprenticeship, it turned fun; stealin' stuff ain't like work at all! And now I'll be the boss, so I can tell everybody else what to do! Except for Kouji, of course; he ain't about to take any shit from me!"

Miaka laughed at the thought of Kouji's casual sarcasm and "Knock, knock" jokes. But she was intrigued by the little glimpse that Tasuki gave her into his childhood; she'd never really thought of him as anything other than a bandit. 'Well, duh, Miaka,' she told herself. 'Do you think he was _born_ a bandit?'

She laid her book on the table next to the bed, suddenly filled with curiosity about his life. Turning towards him, she propped herself up on one elbow. Tasuki beamed at her, pleased to have her full attention, and wriggled closer to her.

"Tasuki, tell me about your childhood--about your family."

He suddenly became still. "Where did this come from all of a sudden? Why do you want to know?"

His voice was casual, but she could feel the tension in his body transmitting itself to her through the mattress. Miaka looked carefully at him, noting the pulse in his throat beating rapidly, his chest rising and falling with short, shallow breaths. Mitsukake had spoken to her about possible after-effects of Tasuki's trauma, and she already knew about panic attacks from a girl at school who would sometimes have one before a major test. Miaka realized that she had somehow made Tasuki anxious, unknowingly pressing him into a corner.

She gently backed away, changing her question. "Oh, I was just wondering what your name is, Tasuki."

He calmed immediately, lifting one eyebrow at her. "Do you have any idea of how stupid that question sounds? I'll give you a hint about my name: it begins with 'Tas' and ends with 'ki.' Got it now?"

She giggled, glad to see him smirking at her again. "You know what I mean! Your given name, not your seishi name. Like Mitsukake is Myo-Juan, and Chiriko is Doukun, and Chichiri is...actually, I don't know Chichiri's name, either."

"Well, there you have it: you don't know Chichiri's name, so why do you need to know mine?"

"Well, I'm not sleeping with Chichiri, either."

"Damn right you're not!" he growled, suddenly pissed off at that mental image.

She laughed to see him bristle with jealousy. Her voice took on a wheedling note. "Come on, do you really want to make me into the sort of girl who sleeps with a man without knowing his name?"

He looked a little shocked. "That's not fair! We may be sleeping together, but we're not...you know."

"Yeah, I know." Miaka smiled at him. "I'm just teasing you..but why are you so reluctant to tell me your name? Don't you like it?"

"No, I don't. I don't like my name. I don't like hearing it…brings back bad memories," he mumbled, remembering his sisters, Aidou especially, screaming it at him, usually adding "no Baka!" as a suffix. "I like it better when you call me Tasuki or Genrou;_ those_ are the names that are really mine. Besides, my given name ain't that interesting; it ain't cool, like Saihitei or Kishuku," he stopped suddenly.

Miaka moved in to defuse the tension, and adopted a little-girl, whiny tone of voice. "Tell me your name, Tasuki. Pleeeaaasee! _PLEEEEEEAASSSSSSE!"_

Tasuki covered his ears, laughing. "Gods, stop with the whining before you get all the palace dogs barking!"

She tossed her head. "Look who's talking! The _King _of Whine!"

He looked outraged. "What're you talking about? I _never_ whine!"

"Oh, yeah? What alternate universe do _you_ live in?" Miaka suddenly realized what she had just said and was seized with a fit of giggling.

Tasuki gave in and started laughing with her. "Well, maybe I whine once in a while--once in a very long, _long_ while. But I never reach the ear-shattering pitch that you do. Gods, all the wolves in the Konan woods are gonna start howling any minute!"

"Okay, then, you're telling me that my whining drives you nuts. You just set yourself up!" Miaka wound herself up to her highest pitch. "Pleeeeaase tell me your name, Tasuki! _Pleeeeeeeassssse!_ _PLEEEEEASSSSSE!"_

Tasuki flinched, his hands over his ears. "All right, all right! I give up already! I'll tell ya--just stop with the whining before you shatter my eardrums!"

Miaka grinned in triumph. "Give it up, then. You promised!"

Tasuki looked away, suddenly shy. "My name is..." Miaka had to lean forward to catch his quiet tones. "...Shun'u."

"Shun'u?" she asked softly. He nodded, blushing.

"Shun'u," Miaka repeated. She tried it out, rolling his name around her mouth. "Shun'u, Shun'u--I like it!" she exclaimed. "There's music in your name! Shun'u..."

Tasuki frowned at her, confused. "Music?" he repeated.

"Yes! It sort of rolls off your tongue--like music…" she trailed off, seeing that he didn't understand.

"Well, if you say so. I'm not gonna argue about it." He smiled softly, pleased that she liked his name, although he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because she liked everything about him. That thought filled him with giddy happiness.

"So, Tasuki, what's your other name?"

"Whaddaya mean, other name? I've given you three already; how many do you want, greedy girl?"

"Your family name is what I mean."

Tasuki smirked, feeling playful. "Uh-uh, no way. I'm not tellin' you. I've heard about girls like you. They ask a guy to tell them _all_ his secrets, then they get bored with him and dump him. Nah, I'm not lettin' myself get dumped. I'm going to cultivate," he stopped and put his nose in the air, "an aihhr of mystahrayyy."

Miaka giggled at his snooty tone. "Come on, Tasuki!" She began to wheedle him, her voice taking on a hint of a whine.

"Nuh-uh, that's not gonna work a second time. I'm not tellin' and that's final. Besides, it's about time you told me some of _your_ secrets--it's only fair."

She laughed easily, knowing that she had nothing to hide. "Ask away, Shun'u; _I'm_ not the timid one here."

Tasuki raised his eyebrows but decided not to take the bait. "So what are all _your _names? Besides Suzaku no Miko, that is."

"Well, my family name is Yuuki, and you know my given name."

"Yuuki Miaka? Is that it?"

"Yes."

"No nickname? You know, like 'Bottomless Pit' or something?"

She whacked him in the head with the pillow, pouting. "No!"

"No middle name?"

"No."

"What does your mother call you?"

"Miaka."

"How about your friends?"

"Miaka."

"What do your teachers call you?"

"Yuuki."

"So that's all there is, then: Yuuki Miaka."

"Yes."

"Borrrrrr-iinnnggg! No mystery left in you, that's for sure! That's it, I'm dumping you!" He started to push her out of the bed.

"Mou, Tasuki! Stop it!" she laughed, grasping his arms to keep herself from falling off the bed

He grinned, pulling her back up. "All right, you can stay--but only because I have no other choice." He pitched his voice higher, laying on a thick country accent. "Ah am at yowah mercy, you animal! You have compromised mah reputation, and now Ah am forced to marry y'all!"

Miaka repressed her giggles and tried to frown at him fiercely. "That's right, my pretty! You are MINE now!"

Tasuki coughed, trying to keep from laughing at her pathetic attempts to generate a deep voice. "You sound like a squirrel with laryngitis!" he gasped.

"Nuh-uh--no breaking character or you lose!" she warned, shaking her finger at him.

"Lose what?"

She leered at him, twirling an imaginary mustache. "Trust me, my pretty, you don't want to know! Now hand it over!"

He squeaked in alarm, scooting away from her. "Oh, honored suh! Whatevah do y'all mean?"

Miaka placed her hands on the pillow, one on either side of Tasuki's head, trying to loom over him as much as five-foot-two-inches of curvy girl could loom. "Tell me your family name now! Tell me!" she dropped the pitch of her voice once again.

He pulled the covers up over his nose, leaving only his amber eyes visible, dancing with mischief. "Ah won't tell you, Ah won't!" he squeaked in a falsetto. "Y'all can't make me!"

She bit her lip to keep from bursting into helpless laughter. "Why NOT?" she thundered, trying to sound threatening.

He fluttered his eyelashes at her, still hiding his face. "Ah have to save _somethin_' fowah the weddin' night, you great brute, you!"

She lost it completely at that point, howling helplessly.

He tried to blow out the lamp while laughing, failing miserably, which sent her even deeper into her hysteria. "We'll…have to…wait!" he gasped, gesturing at the lamp.

She clutched at her sides. "Ow, ow, ow!"

Tasuki gathered her into his arms, almost crying into her thick, fragrant hair. Finally exhaustion set in, calming their hysterical laughter, leaving them with only an occasional choked giggle.

Tasuki reached out and snuffed the wick of the lamp between his fingers. "Ouch!" he yelped, sending them off again for another thirty seconds.

At last, weariness set in again, and they grew quiet. They rested comfortably in each other's arms, their breaths and heartbeats synchronizing with one another. Tasuki was dimly aware of Miaka breathing softly as he drifted between consciousness and sleep.

"I love you, Miaka," he murmured against her hair, thinking her already asleep.

"And I love you…Shun'u," came a soft, sleepy reply.

His last thought before he drifted off was how much he loved his name as it flowed musically from her lips.

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**Author's note: (3-29-02) **Well, was that so painful? Yes? (sigh) Oh, well…you can definitely tell that I am severely sleep-deprived and under-caffeinated.

After the last two chapters plus this interlude, I am officially challenging Purple Mouse for the title of The Queen of Sap! I mean, I've got sap from more than just Ryuuen and Sai: I've got sap between Mitsukake, Chichiri, Tasuki and Miaka, too! So there! ( Roku lunges forward with fencing foil which she obtained from her KOTWAS rank…then trips over her squires robes, rolling around on the ground under the patient eye of Mouse-chan). Ahem. Yes, I'm getting a little loopy here.

I really do have good news for Chao-chan--next week, as promised: TAMAHOMEEEEE! And the chapter after that, too…and the chapter after THAT! I will do my best to make it up to y'all for our blue-haired boy's long hiatus!

Happy Easter, everybody. And Happy Passover! (ummm, that doesn't sound quite right, does it?) All right, then. Happy Spring!

Ja ne!

Roku


	18. Chapter 14 Redemption

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Musical Selection: "Sigma" by Secret Garden from the CD "Songs from a Secret Garden", copyright 1995, PolyGram Publishing, Norway.

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**CHAPTER 14: Redemption** (Tamahome and company)

Sitting in his customary huddled position in his cell, Tamahome watched the shadows grow short as the late morning sun rose towards its zenith outside the window set high in the opposite wall. His mind was growing dull from lack of food and exercise--and that was exactly the way he wanted it. He wanted the feelings and the memories to go away, the images in his mind to fade to shadows, and he didn't care at what cost. He felt a little pang when he thought of the pain in Nuriko's face when he refused to eat--but Nuriko would get over it, just as he got over Tamahome's refusal to leave the cell after Chichiri's exorcism of the oni. Yes, he'd gotten so pissed off that he had ripped the cell door off its hinges--but now the cell door lay quietly in the dust, and Tamahome sat quietly in the cell, and that's the way it was going to be from now on. Nuriko would just have to learn to accept it.

Against his will, his mind turned back to the last vivid image of last night's nightmare: the blood everywhere, rippling in a large pool; the crumpled figure lying in the midst of it, the crimson river still trickling from the long cuts in his wrists; the eyes open, staring emptily at the sky, black pupils fixed and dilated, each surrounded with a thin rim of amber; the sky itself darkening as black leaves fell from above to cover the bleeding figure...

He gasped and sobbed, then forced the nightmare back. His mind was already letting the image fade, his body too weak to hold onto any intense thought or emotion for long. He embraced the weakness, the darkness; it surrounded him and cushioned him, forming a cocoon that separated him from his anguish. He settled back into his huddle, once more at peace as he waited, waited... What exactly he was waiting for, he didn't know; he only knew that he drifted quietly in a vague state of anticipation.

Tamahome heard footsteps approaching his self-imposed prison. He didn't expect Nuriko to come back so soon; he'd hoped for some time to himself while the violet-haired seishi attended to his personal needs. He cast his eyes downward; he really didn't want to see the disappointment in Nuriko's face when he looked at the young seishi. A figure moved in front of the cell, blocking the sunlight from the window and casting his shadow across Tamahome. Tamahome waited for Nuriko to scold him for leaving yet another breakfast untouched...but there was only silence. His curiosity finally piqued, the young seishi slowly raised his eyes...then froze, his heart pounding in his ears.

Black booted feet stood before him--black boots with crimson ankle bands. Tamahome began to tremble, but he couldn't stop his eyes from continuing their upward course. He saw cream breeches encasing long legs, overlaid with a coat of midnight blue trimmed with teal, necklaces sparkling on a snowy white shirt. The sunlight backlit the figure's head, red-gold locks blazing as if on fire, surrounding a shadowed face. The figure tilted his head to look at Tamahome, and the glint of earrings caught his eyes.

By this time, Tamahome's trembling had increased to the point that his vision began to blur. He realized that this was the moment--and the person--he had been waiting for all along; waiting for this moment of retribution and his inevitable release from the hell of his existence. Wrapping his arms around his body in an attempt to steady himself, he tried to rise, but his legs gave out and he fell to his knees before the figure. Overcome with emotion and shame, he let himself crumple until he was prostrate before his fellow seishi.

"Tasuki!" he sobbed, his words a fervent prayer. "Do it now! Kill me! Set me free..._please._ I don't _want_ this life anymore! I don't _want_ to live!" His voice was raw with anguish.

The figure moved swiftly, stooping before Tamahome and seizing his arms, dragging him upward. Tamahome lifted his face, eyes closed, waiting for the killing blow, for the relief of eternal darkness...but instead felt himself clasped firmly against the redhead's chest, strong arms wrapping around him and holding him upright.

"Shhhh, Tama, it's gonna be alright now; everything's gonna be alright," Tasuki soothed. "Don't cry anymore, okay? You don't hafta cry."

The words of comfort spoken in the rough country dialect were the last straw; up until then, Tamahome hadn't realized how much he missed hearing Tasuki's voice, how much he missed seeing his friend. He burst into loud, uncontrolled sobs, wrapping his arms around Tasuki's neck and wailing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_..." over and over again.

Tasuki just held him tight, letting him cry out all his grief and pain, letting him cleanse his soul of all the anguish and self-loathing, just as Miaka had done for him. He felt Tamahome clutch at him desperately, as if he were a lifeline thrown to a drowning man, a man drowning in anguish and despair. At the same time, he felt the weakness in Tamahome's grip and realized the extent of his self-punishment, the depth of his suffering.

Tasuki blinked back the tears in his own eyes and hugged Tamahome tighter, stroking his hair and murmuring soft phrases of comfort and peace. "Shhhhh, I'm here now, don't cry. I won't leave you alone anymore…you don't have to deal with this alone. Don't be sad, Tama. Everything's over, everything's gonna be alright."

Finally, the storm of tears began to die down, Tamahome lacking the strength to continue. He hiccuped and sniffled quietly while Tasuki continued to hold him. Finally, he pushed back against Tasuki's chest so that he could look him in the eyes.

"But why?" he asked, confused. "Why this? Why don't you--hate me?"

Tasuki gently set Tamahome on the ground and sat down beside him, leaning towards him and looking directly into his eyes. "You know why, Tama. You know damn well that you weren't responsible; you know that better than anybody else."

Tamahome looked away, his eyes filling with tears again. "But I should have been stronger. I should've been able to resist him, to force him out! I should've been able to stop him from doing that to you!"

"And so should I! I shoulda been stronger, too, Tama. But sometimes you run into evil: big, ugly evil, and it kicks your ass! Ya just gotta pick up the pieces and keep moving; otherwise, it wins--it wins over you body and soul!"

Tamahome looked at Tasuki again, basking in and envying his friend's strength at the same time. "You don't understand, Tasuki. I'm not strong like you--"

"Oh, I don't understand, do I? You asshole! Ain't nobody in this universe understands you better than me! I know _exactly_ how you're feelin' right now. Don't you get it? It was done to _both_ of us--we were _both_ violated by that goddamn mononoke. If you keep spoutin' that shit about me being stronger, I'll remind you about the snivellin' basket case I was the morning after, scared of my own goddamn shadow! I ain't stronger; I just got good friends who helped me through. An' they were able to help me because I _let_ them! So I ain't stronger than you...but I'm sure a hell of a lot smarter!"

Tamahome couldn't help it--he burst out laughing. That torrent of personal abuse mixed with comforting phrases was so quintessentially Tasuki! He realized that much of his suffering was caused by the fact that he was afraid for his friend, afraid that Tasuki would be forever changed, forever frightened and broken. He was terrified that his nightmare image would become reality. Tamahome leaned forward and hugged his friend. "I'm so glad that you're back!"

"So am I, Tama. I'm sorry, I shoulda come down to get ya sooner...but I guess I was still workin' through my own problems. It wasn't until I overheard Nuriko fussin' about you to Hotohori that I realized I wasn't the only one with problems. I'm sorry that I didn't realize how bad you were hurtin'. "

Tamahome straightened and shook Tasuki gently. "Don't you apologize to me, okay? Just...don't. I'm grateful that you came here at all, so you're going to have to live with that, got it?" He suddenly looked away, twisting his hands in his lap.

Tasuki frowned. "What's the matter, Tama?"

Tamahome looked down and flushed. "There's something I have to tell you, Tasuki. You deserve to hear the truth from me before you decide that you've forgiven me completely. It's about the attack--do you remember when you called me back into my body, and I started to untie you?"

Tasuki nodded, staring intently at Tamahome.

Tamahome took a deep breath, then continued. "I want to explain what happened, why I...failed you. While I was untying you, I looked down at you, and noticed your eyes and...your face and...everything, and--just for a minute, only for a moment, I thought you looked--ummmmm..." he searched desperately for a word that would convey something of what he had felt, without being as romantic a word as 'beautiful', "…ummmm, cute." He winced at the stupid word as Tasuki's eyes widened. He finished in a rush. "And then, only for a second, I felt kind of warm--and that was all that bastard needed to take me over again! And I'm really, _really_ sorry, and I hope that maybe you could hit me or something, and then maybe we could get back to normal..." He trailed off as Tasuki buried his face in his hands, making strangled sounds.

Tamahome felt remorse and anguish as he watched his friend give in to his grief over his betrayal. "I'm sorry, Tasuki, please don't cry! I never meant to let you get hurt, please believe me!"

"Bwahahahahahaha!" Tasuki lifted his face, tears of laughter brimming in his eyes. "Is _that_ what happened? All this time, I was thinkin' it was because you ditched me, because you didn't care!"

Tamahome was shocked. "How could you think that? You're my friend, my brother; I would never ditch you! I would _never--_"

"Yeah, I know that; I know that now, Tama." Tasuki drew a deep breath, then burst out laughing again. "Just think, all this time I was hurting, 'cause I thought you didn't care--and you were hurting 'cause you were afraid that you cared too much!"

Tamahome shook his head, confused by his conflicting feelings: relief that Tasuki had completely forgiven him, and irritation that his deepest, innermost torment was being laughed at. "It's not that funny," he grumbled.

Tasuki turned serious and looked at Tamahome. "But there's somethin' I gotta tell _you_, man." Tamahome waited apprehensively as Tasuki wrinkled his nose. "You smell like a goddamn _cesspit!_ What the _fuck?_ I was gonna drag you upstairs to get somethin' to eat, but you're puttin' me off my appetite! I'm gonna have to dump your ass in the bath before we go to lunch!" He pulled Tamahome up and threw him onto his back, carrying him out of the prison.

"Fuck you, Tasuki! Let's see how sweet you smell after spending a week down here!"

Pause.

"Unfortunate choice of words there, Tama."

Beat.

"Ummm, I know…sorry, Tasuki."

Beat.

"Bwahahahahahaha! You're such a sucker, Tama! It's getting too easy to yank your chain now; it almost ain't fun anymore!"

"Shut up!"

For a few moments, there was only the sound of Tasuki's footsteps, heavier under his burden, leaving the cell behind.

"Soooooooo...how cute do you think I am, really?"

_"What?"_

"I mean, on a scale of one to ten, what am I: an eleven?"

Pause.

"On a scale of one to ten, you're an asshole, that's what you are!"

"C'monnnnn..." a wheedling whine "...and what do you mean by cute? Like cute, cuddly--or cute, _hot!"_

Silence.

"You're never going to let me forget this, are you?"

"Nope."

"You're going to torture me for the rest of my life with this, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"You're going to forgive and forget everything _except_ this, right?"

"Yep."

"You're an _asshole_, you know that?"

"Hey, payback's hell, 'Home!"

The sounds of the two friends arguing faded into the distance as they made their way out of the darkness together.

****

Tasuki leaned back against the wall of his bath chamber, unknowingly mimicking Chichiri's position of a week ago. He'd brought Tamahome to his quarters instead of Tamahome's, guessing shrewdly that Tama would be unhappy revisiting the scene of the crime. Chichiri and Mitsukake had cleaned up Tamahome's room right away that first morning in order to conceal thenight's events, but the missing furniture would be a reminder of how it had been broken.

Tasuki sighed, then lost his patience. "Goddamnit, Tama, how long are you gonna stay in there?" he shouted into the bath chamber. "Am I gonna have to come in and scrub your sorry ass for you, or what?"

"Shut up, asshole, I'm almost done!" came the shouted reply.

"All right, I'm gonna get you some clean clothes--and you better be ready when I get back!"

Takes more time in the bathroom than a girl, he grumbled to himself, thinking to himself about the lengthy time Miaka always spent 'freshening up', as she put it. Thinking about Miaka, he frowned as he made his way to Tamahome's room. Now that he had brought Tamahome back, they were going to have to deal with the tangled relationships between the three of them--but he preferred to wait until Tamahome was a little more stable, a little stronger. "So we can beat the shit out of each other good and proper!" he snorted in amusement. If only it would be that easy... The Miaka question was a huge problem, all the more so since he didn't know how it would pan out in the end: whether he would end up with her, or alone, and how all of this would affect Tamahome.

Tasuki hesitated at the door to Tamahome's room, then quickly stepped in. Thank the gods (and Chichiri and Mitsukake), the room looked very different than it had a week ago. Gods, only one week! His life had changed so much that it felt like at least a year had passed since then. Tasuki moved quickly toward the ornate wooden wardrobe, fighting back a sudden image of trying to hide. He quickly pulled out appropriate garments for Tamahome, forcing the memories away by diverting his thoughts to Miaka once more.

Tasuki knew that he loved Miaka, had loved her without realizing it almost from the moment that he met her, and he no longer doubted that she loved him, too. There was no way that he was going to just step aside and give her up! Unless she asked him to... He sat down on the bed, suddenly struck by the full implications of what his actions had precipitated. There would have to be a decision on Miaka's part--and by bringing Tamahome back into the picture, he had just forced her into making that decision in the next few days. Their time together in their own private paradise was now over.

But deep inside, he already knew that, didn't he? Was that the reason that it took him so long to face Tamahome again? Was it because he didn't _want_ to forgive Tamahome, not because of the rape but because he didn't _want_ Tamahome to come back? Not yet, anyway. Tasuki winced as he thought of Tamahome's obvious suffering, suffering that had gone on while his bandit friend did his best to steal his girl. 'How fucking selfish!' Tasuki thought, momentarily disgusted with himself. He forgot his own struggles and pain, forgetting that he himself had only found peace within the last few days. And he truly didn't realize how badly Tamahome was suffering, being that neither Mitsukake nor Nuriko had let him know Tamahome's exact state of mind for fear of pushing Tasuki himself into a tailspin.

Tasuki recalled his shock upon overhearing Nuriko recounting Tamahome's terrible situation to Hotohori. He'd been filled with the fear that Tamahome was dying, fear that sent him running down to the prison in a panic with only the thought of getting Tamahome out, forgetting his own issues of abandonment and betrayal. That fear vividly brought back the image of last night's nightmare: Tamahome lying in a pool of blood, his wrists cut and his eyes staring emptily at the sky, while black leaves swirled to cover him…

He shuddered. How close had that dream come to reality, while he had been happily discovering the delights of love? He sighed, remembering Chichiri's advice to look into his heart for answers. His heart had answered him, hadn't it, letting him know that Tamahome meant more to him than any issue associated with the rape. But what about issues associated with Miaka?

Since he was being honest with himself, he knew that what had happened between him and Miaka was something bigger, more powerful than just taking advantage of Tamahome's absence. If it wouldn't sound so melodramatic, he would almost call it destiny. Maybe he and Miaka were _meant_ to be together, and all they'd needed was one opportunity to let it happen. If so, then maybe she _would_ choose him, and everything would turn out all right--

But not for Tamahome. If Miaka did choose him, he didn't want to think about how badly it was going to hurt Tama. He suddenly understood exactly how Miaka felt: loving two people and knowing that inevitably, one of them was going to get hurt. "This sucks!" he muttered to himself, lying back, crossing his arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling.

He couldn't think of what to do--and the truth was, it wasn't his place to do anything. It was Miaka's decision, and all he could do was to wait passively for her to make it. It grated on him, this forced inaction; it went completely against his usual confrontational style, but he couldn't put her in the middle of a possible conflict. Besides, she might decide that she never wanted Tamahome to find out about their brief interlude, and she might ask Tasuki to just withdraw quietly from her life...

His heart suddenly clenched with pain. He would do it for her if she asked; after all, he'd already promised her something of the sort. Tasuki felt his breath grow short, his limbs beginning to tremble as anxiety began to take over his mind. He was confused at first, then realized where he was lying and what ceiling he was staring at. He leaped up off the bed, grabbing Tamahome's clothes and practically running out of the room. Once out in the corridor, he leaned against the wall and tried to catch his breath.

"You're a fucking genius, Genrou!" he scolded himself. "Didja miss those fucking panic attacks so much that you went out of your way to induce one? Dumbass! It'd be real good if you passed out in Tama's room, so that he hadda come lookin' for ya--then when he tried to wake you, you both could freak out big time!" That image was sort of funny in an awful way, so he smirked briefly, then headed back to his room.

He knocked on the door to the bath chamber, then pushed it open. Tamahome was ready, hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist, but he sat huddled on the bathing stool, beginning to tremble again. Tasuki frowned, noticing how thin Tamahome had become, his ribs protruding sharply from his sides and back. 'Damn fool really _was_ killing himself,' he thought. 'Good thing I didn't wait much longer to get him out of there.'

"What's the matter, Tama?" Tasuki asked gently, although he had a pretty good idea.

"I'm scared, Tasuki--scared of facing the others. I don't know what to say, how to act. Do I pretend like nothing happened, like nothing's different? There's no way that I can pull that off! I've been thinking; maybe we can skip this today. Maybe you can just bring some food back here for me?"

"Nope, buddy. Sorry, but I'm not gonna let you run away from this anymore. Those are your friends waiting for you, not some panel of hanging judges. They've missed you, and they care about you, and they're not gonna do anything bad to you. I got through it, and so will you. Remember that I'll be there with you, and I'll think of something to make it easier."

"But..."

"No buts, that's just the way it has to be. So quit worrying and get dressed--unless you want me to dress you. Seems a _little_ kinky though..."

"Shut up, baka!" Tamahome threw a towel at Tasuki's grinning face.

****

Shortly thereafter, they made their way to the dining hall, Tasuki still supporting the weakened Tamahome with an arm around his shoulders. Hearing voices upraised in cheerful conversation, they looked in to see Hotohori and Nuriko with their heads together, smiling at one another, while Miaka and Chiriko argued cheerfully over the last dumpling in the bowl. Mitsukake smiled over them all, seated next to Chichiri, just awakened from his enforced rest. Tama-neko purred as he moved happily between Mitsukake's and Chichiri's shoulders.

"I forgot to tell you, Chichiri's back! See, I told you that everything's gonna be okay." Tasuki whispered encouragingly to Tamahome. "Okay, buddy, here we go!" and taking a deep breath, they stepped into the room.

Hotohori was the first to notice them, his eyes widening. Nuriko turned to see what he was looking at, then put a hand up to his mouth, his violet eyes filling with tears at the sight of Tasuki supporting Tamahome. Chichiri merely watched quietly, waiting patiently to see what would happen next, while Mitsukake smiled at the reappearance of Tasuki's old outfit. Miaka and Chiriko finally noticed the transfixed stares of their friends and dropped their duelling chopsticks, the last dumpling forgotten.

Tamahome began to shrink back at the silence and the stares, but Tasuki's arm refused to let him hide behind him. Tasuki moved forward another step, so that all eyes turned to him. He looked carefully into each face, then began to draw his eyebrows down, his eyes tilting up in mischief. He quirked up one corner of his mouth until they were all treated to the full glory of his bandit smirk.

"Ladies and gentlemen and those in between," he winked at Nuriko, "Seishi and Miko, we have an announcement! Tamahome has decided to make an honest man out of me at last. We're getting married next week!"

There was a moment of stunned silence...then a pure sound descended into their midst. It was the sound of a peal of laughter, clear as a bell, bright as a beam of sunlight breaking through the clouds. It was Miaka laughing at Tasuki's dreadful joke, laughing until tears came to her eyes. It was so infectious that Chiriko joined in almost immediately, shortly followed by the rest of the seishi. They leapt out of their seats, laughing and crying, surrounding their two lost brothers and drawing them back into their embrace.

Tamahome was led gently to his seat, then anxiously plied with food from all his brother warriors, overwhelming him until Mitsukake took control and banished everything except a cup of broth and a half bowl of rice. Chichiri smiled in pure happiness, then turned to tickle Chiriko until both were breathless, laughing helplessly. Nuriko leaned against Hotohori's shoulder, as Hotohori gently wiped away Nuriko's tears of joy. Miaka released her arms from around Tamahome's neck when Mitsukake shooed her away.

She approached her fifth seishi where he lounged in his seat, grinning at the chaos and confusion he had provoked. The audacity of Tasuki's joke, his willingness to bring the rape out of the darkness and into the light, thus robbing the evil of its power to shame them and crush them--that was the power of Suzaku at its best, and his miko knew how to reward her bravest warrior.

"I love you," she murmured softly to him.

His grin widened, exposing his fangs. "Of course you do--baaaka!"

"Mou, Tasuki!"

*******

*******

**Author's notes: **(4-3-02) (happy sigh) Well, was that worth the wait…or not? You can be honest with me.

Guess what! I finally found the newest Viz manga of Fushigi Yuugi (Volume 6 "Summoner") at Border's, and I got the biggest thrill out of reading Yuu Watase's description of Chichiri! She refers to him as a mystery, and although she calls Tamahome and Hotohori the obvious leaders of the warriors, she says that Chichiri is the power behind the throne. She also calls him the "adult who looks after the kids." Whoooo! I didn't realize that I was falling in line with canon when I depicted him that way! Hey, everybody, didja hear that? Me--Roku--canon… hah!

And another thing from Volume 6: in the breakfast scene, when the injured Tasuki comes face-to-face with Tamahome for the first time since the kodoku battle, the pissed-off Tasuki says "Feh!" Feh! My favorite Inu-Yasha line! See, I told you that my two favorite fang-boys were alike! Feh! (pronounced "Keh!" in the anime, for some reason)

Next chapter: Oh, frabjous day! The moment you've been waiting for so patiently! Mits _finally_ gets his mitts on the tessen! (yes, I know _that's_ not canon, but I can't stay in line for long, especially when it's just too fun!) Also, more Tamahome...and _stronger_ Tamahome, the way I love him! However, on a darker note: Miaka must make a decision. Heartbreak is inevitable for someone…maybe more than one person. Hold onto your hats, folks; angst is coming back to "White Stones!"

Ja ne!

Roku


	19. Chapter 15 Decision

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Musical Selection: "Last Present" by Cho Sung Woo and Secret Garden from the Secret Garden CD "Dreamcatcher", copyright 2001. A very wistful tune… begins at scene 3 and continues until the epilogue.

*******

**Chapter 15. Decision **(Hotohori, Nuriko, Tamahome, Miaka, Tasuki)

The late morning sun beamed down on the Imperial palace and grounds, its warm glow providing a soothing counterpoint to the chilly air that signaled the end of summer in Konan. Four figures ambled leisurely across the velvet lawn to the small hill at the northeast corner of the grounds. They climbed the gentle rise to its crown, settling in the dappled shade of the trees that edged the Imperial Wood, their position giving them an excellent view of the army training ground that bordered the northern edge of the palace.

The square of beaten earth extended fifty yards in each direction, forming an area large enough to encompass a huge open yard for maneuvers, as well as an archery range and weapons training area. Battle dummies made of straw and cloth creaked and swayed on long poles, their blank faces staring emptily over the huge round targets in the archery range. No soldiers of the Imperial army were present this day, their training session having been cancelled to yield the area to the Suzaku shichiseishi for their own unspecified purposes. Only four of the shichiseishi occupied the training ground, the remaining members of the Suzaku family having retreated to the hill to observe their activities from a safe distance.

Hotohori wrapped his arms around his long legs, clad casually in white breeches tucked into black boots with gold ankle bands, offset by the brilliant red of his short-sleeved high-collared silk shirt, his wrists bound in black silk cuffs. His outfit was an exact match to those of two of his companions on the hill, and also matched those of the four shichiseishi on the training grounds. Only the priestess of Suzaku was clad differently, once again wearing her pink silk trouser suit that afforded her more modesty than her usual skirted uniform, should she suddenly take it into her head to climb trees or fly.

Hotohori heard a small sigh of contentment and smiled down at Nuriko seated next to him, who had wrapped his arms around his knees in unconscious imitation of his emperor. Both Hotohori and Nuriko wore their hair long, loosely tied in ponytails low on their backs, Nuriko foregoing his usual braid to leave his hair in the style that Hotohori loved. For once, Nuriko's attention was not focused on Hotohori but on Tamahome, who leaned back comfortably on the hillside, eyes closed as he soaked up the sunshine. Miaka, seated beside Tamahome, caught Nuriko's eye and winked, both of them silently celebrating Tamahome's return to them and the outside world. Although Tamahome was still too pale and thin, he had regained much of his strength after 24 hours of decent food and the love and companionship of his fellow seishi.

Pleased with his rapid recovery, Miaka gave Nuriko a thumbs up sign. Nuriko, confused, looked up into the branches above them. Miaka snickered quietly, then, waving her hand to get Nuriko's attention, flashed him a "V" sign instead. Nuriko grinned back, flashing the "V" back at her.

The voices of their fellow seishi floated across the expanse of green velvet. They could hear a high pitched voice crying out "Rekka Shin'en!" as the youngest seishi gripped the tessen with both hands and pointed it at the sky under the careful supervision of the eldest seishi. Chiriko's enthusiastic but high pitched rendition of the tessen spell succeeded in producing only a shower of sparks and a few puffs of smoke from the tessen, but Chichiri stayed close beside him nonetheless, occasionally reaching out a hand to steady the weight of the diamond fan. The monk had clasped his kesa around the seishi under-uniform, its folds draping gracefully over his shoulder, keeping a touch of familiarity in his otherwise uncharacteristic outfit of breeches and boots.

Likewise, Tasuki had thrown his bandit coat over his shirt. He and Mitsukake remained busily absorbed in their activities near the targets on the archery range, their amicable interactions intermittently punctuated by Tasuki's curses: "_No_, Mits! If I fuckin' _wanted_ them there, I would've fuckin' PUT them there!"

Hotohori caught Nuriko's eye and smiled. "Do you really think it's necessary for us to sit so far away from the action? Things seem pretty well under control, and Chichiri _is_ right there with them."

Tamahome snorted, his eyes still closed. "Are you kidding? You've got Pyro-Boy out there with a whole pile of explosives and Mitsukake acting weird and over-excited, like he's the psychic twin of the Flaming Maniac. Chichiri's just there to protect Chiriko and maybe pick up the smoking bits of flesh of the other two for a decent burial later. Do you really want to be in the middle of that?" Tamahome opened his eyes, suddenly realizing to whom he was speaking. "Ummm, heika, I mean."

Hotohori laughed easily. "No formalities today, please, Tamahome! I'm just Hotohori, and we're all family here, right?"

Tamahome blushed. "All right, hei... Hotohori."

Nuriko laughed, having received his own lecture earlier on his over-use of "heika." Miaka grinned, not needing to be reprimanded since she had always addressed Hotohori casually, as a good friend, almost from the moment they met.

Nuriko smiled at Tamahome, still marveling at the sudden end to their hellish interlude in the Imperial prison. He felt as if he would never stop smiling, he was so full of joy and relief.

"Hey, Tama-chan, don't complain. At least Fang-Boy is occupied while we wait for the final fittings! Do you remember his incessant whining during the initial measurements for our new uniforms?" Nuriko raised his voice in a passable imitation of his brother warrior's distinctive complaints. "Why do we hafta wait around so fuckin' long? And what the fuck are these pansy-ass designs? Nah, we're wearin' boots, not shoes! And the coats gotta be long, knee-length at least! All right, I'll put up with the stupid cloaks, but only if the coats are black! And what the fuck is _takin_' so long already?"

Miaka fell back, laughing helplessly at Nuriko's dead-on imitation of Tasuki, while Hotohori's eyes widened slightly at the level of language coming from Nuriko's mouth.

Nuriko shook his head at the memory. "All we wanted were some outfits bearing the emblem of Suzaku for our summoning ceremony with the Shinzaho, but Mister I-Have-An-Opinion-On-Everything had to change the whole design in the middle of the fittings, and_ then_ bitch about the extra time it took the palace tailors to accommodate his wishes! Gods, bandits with fashion sense! What is this world coming to?"

Tamahome burst out laughing. "I never thought about that before. Fashion sense! I'll have to yank his chain good about that one!"

"No, Tama-chan, don't start with him again! For the last day, all we ever hear when the two of you start arguing is Tasuki running around asking how cute you think he is. I don't know where he got that from.--and I don't _want_ to know--but it's starting to get on my nerves. So let's have some peace between you for maybe a couple of hours, okay?"

Tamahome subsided, grumbling, muttering plans for revenge under his breath.

Miaka laughed out loud, giddily happy to see that Tasuki and Tamahome were back to their same old bickering brotherly relationship, at least for now. Her smile faltered as she remembered the issue that still lay between the two--an issue that Tamahome had no idea about as yet. She and Tasuki had had no time in which to discuss what they were going to do, but they were in unspoken accord that they would put the issue--and their relationship--on hold until Tamahome regained more of his strength and perhaps his seishi powers, as well. As Tamahome, Nuriko, and Hotohori joked quietly with each other, Miaka let her mind drift back to last night.

Tasuki had casually walked back towards their quarters with her and Nuriko, Tamahome having wearily retired earlier to Mitsukake's clinic so that the healer could watch over him. Nuriko had turned in at his door, waving goodnight but carefully not looking either of them in the eye, not wanting to show either approval or disapproval of Miaka's infidelity with Tasuki. When they reached her room, Miaka looked up into Tasuki's amber eyes hesitantly.

"Tasuki, I… I…"

He shook his head and held up a finger to his lips, careful not to touch her. "No, you don't have to say anything. I know that you need time alone--time to think. And somehow, it doesn't seem quite right now, does it? Not until…" he broke off, unable to finish that thought. "Oyasumi, Miaka," he finished simply, smiling a sweet, wistful smile at her before continuing on to his own room.

Miaka watched him walk away until he disappeared around the corner of the balcony. She retreated into her room, blinking back tears, realizing what Tasuki must have known from the moment that he had brought Tamahome back: that their private time together was over and everything that they shared was at an end--until she made her final decision.

Miaka bit her lip and frowned, her eyes unconsciously fixing on the figure of her red-haired lover as he ran about the archery range. Tasuki had met her at breakfast, treating her with the cheerful insouciance of their former sibling-like relationship, but she knew him too well by now to be fooled by any of his masks. A brief deep glance into his eyes had shown her the pain he struggled to suppress, the grief lurking at the edges of his soul as he waited apprehensively for her decision. She felt her heart contract with pain. He had suffered so much already…but so had Tamahome. She still found the thought of giving up either of them to be almost impossibly heart-breaking, yet at the same time, she knew that her indecision itself was hurting at least one heart.

At that moment, the fiery figure on the training ground looked up as if he felt her gaze. Although they were too far apart to see one another's eyes, Miaka could have sworn that their gazes locked. Tasuki finally seemed to notice the three seishi seated on the hill with her, and he waved a hand in acknowledgement. Miaka gave a brief wave in return, then curled her fingers into her palm.

The priestess of Suzaku sighed. She knew that she could not go on deceiving Tamahome; no matter what pain it would cause him to discover what had occurred between her and Tasuki, she could no longer lie to him. She had thought that it was her nature to be honest…until Love made a liar of her. She had had enough of deception, and besides, she owed Tamahome the truth; it was what their relationship was based upon. Now that he seemed stronger, she could no longer hide behind excuses of sparing him trauma.

Miaka looked up to find sparkling grey eyes fixed on her as thoughtfully as she had been gazing at the figure on the training ground. Suddenly, an image appeared before her--those same eyes gazing into hers just scant weeks ago as he escaped from the kodoku spell, critically wounded, yet apologizing to her for his failure to meet her at midnight. She remembered her joy mixed with grief, her willingness to die for him, her overwhelming and complete love for him! She nearly gasped as the rush of love for Tamahome filled her yet again, shining out from her eyes. His eyes reflected back that same love as he squeezed her hand, then brought it to his lips.

Nuriko and Hotohori smiled to see the familiar intimacy between the two…but suddenly, as if drawn, four pairs of eyes turned to look at the red-haired figure below them as he loped gracefully back toward Chichiri and Chiriko, retrieving the tessen to hand to the tall physician.

Miaka nearly choked as she almost literally felt her heart tear in two--grief, love and guilt battling for position in her chest.

"Are you all right, Miaka?" Tamahome asked, his voice filled with warm concern.

"Y-yes…" she stammered. "Just ate my breakfast a little too fast, I guess."

Nuriko jumped in to help her out. "Sure, you greedy chowhound; I told you that would happen! But when do you ever listen to _me?" _

Miaka smiled at Nuriko in gratitude. "I'll start listening now, I promise."

Hotohori nodded toward the training ground, providing another distraction. "It looks like everything's about to begin."

The four figures sat up straighter, fixing their eyes on the two seishi who now stood at center stage. Mitsukake lifted the tessen, Tasuki directing him to point it towards the sky.

"Rekkaaaaaaaa SHIN'EEEENNNNNN!" they heard Mitsukake's deep voice cry.

The tessen exploded with fire, sending a fountain of flames shooting nearly thirty feet into the air. The other five seishi and miko erupted into cheers, whistling and shouting. Tasuki clapped the tall doctor on the back, who was now turning the tessen over and over, obviously awestruck by the instrument he held in his hands. Mitsukake finally looked up and gave a small, embarrassed wave of acknowledgement to his audience.

They could hear Tasuki saying something to Mitsukake as he walked back to the items they had been arranging near the archery targets, his midnight blue coat flowing back from his rapid movement. Tasuki gave one last adjustment to the items and began to walk away from the target. At that moment, the cry of "Rekkkaaaaa SHIN'EEEENNNNNN!" rang out across the training ground, as a gout of flames shot right past Tasuki, singeing him and nearly drowning out his shriek of fury. The flames blasted into their target, knocking it over, igniting rockets and fireworks and sending them shooting everywhere near ground level.

Chichiri threw up his kesa, shielding himself and Chiriko from the whizzing rockets. Tasuki and Mitsukake both dove for the ground, the pitch of Tasuki's infuriated screams nearly matching the high-pitched whistling of the fireworks. Miaka and Nuriko jumped up in horror, but Tamahome fell over howling with laughter as Hotohori shaded his eyes to see the results of the catastrophe. Finally, the last of the rockets exploded near Tasuki, showering him with sparks. He rose slowly on obviously trembling legs and stalked over to Mitsukake, who was also shakily getting to his feet. Chiriko peeked over the edge of Chichiri's kesa, as everyone held their breath for the next inevitable explosion.

They didn't have to wait long. Tasuki drew in a deep breath, then let out a barrage of curses at his erstwhile pyrotechnics partner, reaching a pitch that none of them had ever heard the bandit reach before. The four on the hillside could hear every word of his curses due to his increased volume and pitch, as Chichiri, at Ground Zero, protectively covered Chiriko's ears.

"_WHAT_ in the FUCKING _HELL_ were ya TRYING TA _DO?_ Didn't I tell ya ta _WAIT_ until I _got CLEAR?_ Are ya _TRYIN' _ta FUCKIN' _DEFLOWER_ ME AGAIN with a GODDAMN _FIRECRACKER!"_

The tall doctor held up his hands in a placating manner as Tasuki practically jumped up and down with rage in front of him. Tamahome was rolling on the ground, nearly crying with happiness. Miaka couldn't help giggling once she saw that all participants were uninjured. Nuriko wiped tears of laughter from his eyes, as Hotohori shook his head at the mad antics of his brother warriors.

Tamahome sat up and grabbed Hotohori's sleeve, shaking the emperor. "What did I tell you? What did I _tell_ you would happen?" he crowed joyfully before realizing what he was doing. "Ummmm, sorry, Heika!" he gasped apologetically.

Hotohori grabbed him and playfully noogied him. "What did I tell _you_ about calling me 'Heika'?"

Tamahome merely sat there stunned, as Miaka and Nuriko burst out laughing at his shocked expression.

Chichiri walked across to the still enraged bandit, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"Tasuki-kun, no da," they heard his soothing tones as he led Tasuki away, the palace tailors leaping on the bandit as soon as he came within their range. They heard one last protesting shriek--"Watch where you're puttin' your fuckin' _needles!"--_before Tasuki disappeared for his final uniform fitting.

That started everyone laughing again until they grasped their sides in pain. Just when everything calmed down, Chichiri walked up to Mitsukake, who was still holding the tessen and staring at it in awe. Chichiri pointed an accusing finger at his friend--then collapsed, laughing wildly, hanging weakly onto the doctor's shirt. There was a moment of stunned silence from everyone to see the monk so out of control, but they soon were all infected by his unconstrained mirth and starting laughing all over again.

Finally, they regained their breath. Hotohori stood up, stretching luxuriantly, determined to enjoy every last moment of happiness in his life. He reached out a hand to pull up Nuriko, who was still giggling softly to himself.

"Come on, Nuriko; remember that you promised to show me the aerial ambush platform." Clasping hands, they wandered off into the woods.

Miaka stared dreamily down at the training ground, absently watching Chiriko as he hopped around the yard picking up the remnants of the firecrackers. Mitsukake and Chichiri joined him in the clean-up until Mitsukake was summoned by the tailors for his fitting.

Miaka felt an arm go around her shoulders, and she leaned her head against Tamahome, still feeling the light-heartedness that had briefly lifted her away from her troubled thoughts.

"Soooooo…." Tamahome nodded in the direction of the woods. "When did _that_ interesting development take place?"

Miaka smiled. "Only within the last day or so, I think."

"So do you think they're…?" Tamahome raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Miaka blushed. "No! No, I'm sure they're not--!" She tried to explain her intuitions. "I think that they're just getting used to the idea of letting themselves love each other, especially Hotohori. He's never really had anyone love him for himself before, and I think that he's enjoying the feeling of finally being loved. I don't think that either one of them is rushing into complicated issues yet. After all, Hotohori still has the pressures and responsibilities of being Emperor, and the future isn't necessarily going to be easy for them…"

Tamahome stared out into the distance. "It's amazing how many things can change in just over a week. I feel as if I've been gone for a year! Mitsukake acting wild, showing a violent streak; Chichiri laughing openly instead of his careful catlike smile; Hotohori falling in love with Nuriko; you falling in love with Tasuki…"

Miaka jumped, startled. She met his intent grey gaze. "Ta…Tamahome…" she whispered.

She couldn't help it; her eyes filled with tears. He had found out about the two of them, and not from her! What must he think of her, to know that she was deceiving him? He must think that she held him in contempt, to treat him with so much disrespect! Gods, what could she say, how could she explain?

Tamahome touched a hand to her face. "Hush now, don't cry. I don't mean to upset you."

She sobbed aloud at his compassion for her. "I should have told you, I should have said something! But I didn't want to hurt you so soon after you came back…and now I've hurt you worse by holding back! I'm such a _stupid_, cruel--"

He put a finger to her lips. "Stop that. I know that you never meant to hurt me; that's just not you, Miaka. But you know, you're no good at deception either. Your heart always shows in your eyes, didn't you know that? I always know what you're thinking by looking in your eyes. That's how I can tell that you still love me--even though you've fallen in love with him."

She shook her head, her tears falling. "I have no excuse, no defense for what I've done to you."

Tamahome interrupted her. "Listen, Miaka, I don't blame you for falling in love with him." He gave a short laugh. "Hell, I'm half in love with him myself!" She looked up to see him gazing off into the distance again, looking back into the past. "None of you were there to see what he did for me: how he rescued me from my own private hell." Tamahome's eyes shone with tears. "He pulled me up and held me in his arms… After all that had passed between us, he still clasped me against his body as if we were truly brothers."

"Tamahome, it wasn't you who hurt him; he knows that."

"Yes, but it was still_ these_ hands,_ this _body! He looked past all that and held me while I cried--and then he carried me out of there. I can never forget that…I _will_ never forget that! He's one hell of a man, you know."

Miaka smiled sadly at him. "Yes, I know…but so are you. You're one extraordinary man, too, Tamahome; I haven't forgotten that. But how did you know…how did you find out about…us?"

"I would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to see what you have with him. It's pretty obvious, even though you tried so hard to hide it. There's a connection, an energy between the two of you. Even when you're both staring down at your plates or looking in opposite directions, it's always there. If someone gets caught between you, that energy almost burns him. It burns…" Tamahome finished in a whisper.

He didn't tell her that he also heard her tell Tasuki that she loved him when she approached him in the dining room yesterday. At first, Tamahome thought that his acute sense of hearing had gone wrong; after all, in the next moment, Miaka was scolding Tasuki and flouncing off to her chair. But when he looked up, he noticed the connection between them that he had just described to her. And it _did_ burn him - right down to his soul.

He spent the rest of the day in a sort of foggy denial, wrapped in the cotton-wool of shock. He still chatted with his brother seishi, still smiled at Miaka, and even joked with Tasuki. Only when he had privacy in Mitsukake's clinic did he finally face his pain. Once he was certain he was alone, he had wept and stormed and screamed his betrayal into the pillow, wanting to _hit_ them both until they hurt as much as he did--he wanted to put his hands around Tasuki's neck and squeeze until the bandit stopped struggling! He wanted to smash Tasuki's lying face! Those lying eyes that had looked at him with love and concern, those lying arms that had lifted him and held him, that lying mouth that had spoken words of comfort and peace!

"You lied, you _lied _to me! You never cared about me _at all!_" he had shouted into his pillow--then stopped, dimly wondering where he had heard similar words just a short while ago. Finally, he remembered: it was what Tasuki thought had happened during the attack. Tasuki had thought that Tamahome abandoned him because he didn't care--and yet he still came to get Tamahome out of prison. He still came to rescue him.

Tamahome had fallen into a troubled sleep last night. His anger and turmoil brought back the nightmare memories of the oni. He thrashed in the bed, crying out at the nightmare images of hitting Tasuki, hurting Tasuki, humiliating him…taking him. Mitsukake had come running in with another herbal sedative and held the young seishi as he cried, held him until he quieted once more. But Tamahome had only pretended to sleep. Once the doctor left the room, he sat up and thought deeply and carefully about all that had happened in the past nine days.

He didn't _deserve_ this pain, he didn't _ask_ for it--but neither did Tasuki. Neither did Miaka. Nor Nuriko or Chichiri or any of the others. None of them had asked for the nightmare that had torn their lives apart; they just had to get through it to the best of their abilities.

He remembered Tasuki's words: "Sometimes you run into evil…and it just kicks your ass! Ya just gotta pick up the pieces and keep moving - otherwise, it wins!"

Tamahome suddenly realized that he held all the power in this situation. He could punish and humiliate Tasuki and Miaka, he could make Miaka cry with guilt and shame. He could make all their lives into a living hell, eventually destroying the bonds between all of the Suzaku seishi--and by doing so, he would help the oni achieve its final demonic victory. The evil would win.

Or he could pick up the pieces and try to find some meaning in his shattered life, some way to get through the future and re-establish bonds with both Miaka and Tasuki.

This morning, he had woken from an uneasy doze to join the others at breakfast. He'd forced himself to eat, the food tasting like ashes in his mouth. But he was determined to regain his strength. His exhaustion gave him a strange calmness, a distance from his turbulent emotions, and also an inexplicable clarity. He saw the careful distance that Tasuki and Miaka kept from each other--and in that distance he suddenly saw their love for _him_. They loved him and didn't want to hurt him.

He also saw Tasuki's carefully concealed pain flash briefly through his eyes as Miaka met his glance…and Tamahome realized that Miaka had not committed her future to Tasuki. No, she had not yet chosen Tasuki over him. He still had a chance to win her back! That strange clarity suddenly flared up in his mind, and he saw that Tasuki knew that, too. Tasuki _knew_ that bringing Tamahome back might cost him Miaka…but he did it anyway.

"Because he loves me," Tamahome whispered to himself. "More than he loves himself. Even after everything that happened, he still loves me…"

Suddenly, the food tasted better, the sunlight in the room glowed brighter, and the possibility of a future leaped up before his eyes. Because in spite of all that he had lost, in spite of all that the oni had taken from him, he hadn't lost Love. He could see it in Miaka's eyes, in Tasuki's eyes, and in the eyes of all his brother seishi. They were a family, _his_ family, and he meant as much to them as they did to him. As long as he had Love, he couldn't lose.

Tamahome suddenly returned to the present. His face had reflected the pain and turbulence of his thoughts, and Miaka sat weeping before him, having hidden her face in her hands before he reached his resolution and peace. Tamahome reached out his hand to her, remorseful. He never could stand to see her cry.

"Miaka, listen, everything's going to be all right. Don't cry, everything's going to work out."

She lifted her face from her hands, tearful and angry. "How _can_ it work out? How can _anything_ be all right when I'm the most _stupid_ girl in existence, when I can't make a simple choice?! I can't bear to choose between you because I love you BOTH! I want you _BOTH!"_

Tamahome burst out laughing. "Greedy girl! You can't be greedy about men like you are about food! You're right, it can't work out so that you can have us both in the same way…but there's more than one kind of love. So maybe I can help you choose."

Miaka looked up into his beautiful grey eyes, hoping desperately that he had found some way that she had been too stupid to see, yet at the same time, she was dreading his decision.

"Miaka, you have to understand--there had to be something missing between us for this to happen." Miaka began to shake her head in denial, her tears flowing again. "No, please, Miaka, listen. The only way _any_ person could come between us is if there was _space_ between us to begin with. Or maybe…maybe you and Tasuki were _meant _to be together, and it was a mistake that I found you first. Maybe _we_ were the mistake."

"No!" Miaka's voice was strong and resolute, her tears drying. "Whatever we had, whatever we were, we were _never_ a mistake, Tamahome! I wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for you finding me first! I wouldn't be the woman I am unless you helped shape me with your love; _he_ couldn't love me if you hadn't made me into who I am today. You are my first love, and I will always love you…" suddenly, her choice became clear "…and I'll find some way to give him up if you ask me to!" Her voice broke. "I owe you everything, and I'll find some way to make this up to you, I swear it!"

Tamahome lifted her chin and gazed into her emerald eyes. "Miaka, I don't know if I've ever told you this before--but you are the most incredibly loving, giving, self-sacrificing, impulsive, _stupid _girl I ever met!"

Her eyes widened in shock. Tamahome grinned briefly at her expression but then changed, his smile becoming wistful, sad.

"Tell me that you can just walk away from a man like him, and not have it absolutely shatter your heart."

Miaka lowered her eyes.

"Tell me that you won't think about him and cry over him every night for the rest of your life." Tamahome's voice dropped, his smile vanishing. "Tell me that you think it's _fair_ to me for you to pretend to be happy with me when every part of your being will be yearning for him. Tell me that it's fair for me to be your reality...while he becomes your dream."

She bowed her head, crying softly.

Tamahome pulled her to face him, both of them kneeling on the grass. "Miaka, don't cry. I think we both know that there's only one choice you can make; you're just afraid of what it will do to me. But listen, I'll be all right. I have so much love in my life, I can't help but be all right. I have a family who needs me to provide for them, and they love me as much as I love them. I also have another family who loves me--all of us, the chosen ones of Suzaku--so you see, we'll always be family to each other. You and I will always have each other and love each other, even if it's in a different way from what we had before. And I have an important purpose in my life, a mission to fulfill. No matter what the future holds for me, I'll never be alone." Tamahome stopped, then caught his breath. "I have only one thing to ask of you, one last gift to keep for the rest of my life… one last kiss."

Miaka looked into his eyes and drew him close, brushing the midnight hair out of his eyes, feeling the fine bones of his face beneath her fingers. She touched her lips to the softness of his mouth and closed her eyes.

Gods, it was so sweet...he was so achingly sweet. She felt her heart beat rapidly with love and pain and bittersweet regret, knowing that this was the last kiss they would share, the last time that they would ever be together in this way. She was suddenly filled with doubt--was she making the right choice? Could she really bear to give up Tamahome and all that he had meant to her? Gods, she had forgotten how sweet his kisses were, and how much she still loved him! In a split second, she saw all the images of their time together; from their first meeting when he had rescued her and Yui, through all the sacrifices he had made for her up until now, when he made the final sacrifice of his love for her for the sake of her own happiness...and in this moment, she realized that she would never truly lose him, nor would he lose his importance in her life.

She felt him gently pull back from her, gently releasing her for the last time. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she pressed her forehead to his.

"Wo ai ni, Tamahome," she whispered lovingly. "You will forever be part of me."

"Wo ai ni, Miaka," he breathed. "I will always be here for you."

A twig snapped, and they looked up to see Tasuki standing a short way off, very pale. He wore the new uniform of the Suzaku shichiseishi: its long black coat embroidered with the figure of the crimson phoenix-god, a rich crimson cloak draped over one shoulder and tucked under his silk sash, his red-gold locks standing out against the black coat, seeming to flash with fire. Miaka caught her breath at the perfection of his form in the outfit--contrasting sharply with the desolation in his face.

"I...I'm sorry to interrupt," he stammered. "They sent me to tell you that they need Tamahome for the fittings now... ummm..." His voice faltered as he began to back away.

Tamahome leaped up and grasped Tasuki's arm. "It's alright, Tasuki; you don't have to run off. Miaka told me about the two of you."

Tasuki flushed, looking at Miaka's eyes filled with tears, then turned his gaze to meet Tamahome's. He smiled shyly at his brother warrior.

"Can you really blame me?" he asked softly. "Can you blame me for falling in love with her?"

Tamahome smiled back at his friend. "No, I don't blame you at all."

Tasuki looked down. "Thanks, Tama." He looked back up at his brother seishi and forced a smile. "But it really doesn't matter anymore, anyway. In the end, she chose the best man, and that's what counts."

Tamahome nodded. "Yes, she did choose the best man."

Tasuki flinched slightly, then turned to smile widely at Miaka--a smile so full of love and grief and pain that she felt her own heart stop. In that one moment, that moment in which she watched his heart break, she _knew_ that she had made the right choice. She knew it because even though she knewhe was mistaken, her own heart broke along with his, and she knew that their souls were one. His pain was hers, and her tears began falling faster.

"Tasuki!" she gasped.

He turned away from them, his voice suddenly husky. "Look, guys, I just remembered something I have to do. I'll see ya later..." he trailed off.

"Tasuki, wait!" cried Miaka.

Tamahome grabbed Tasuki's arm again. "You heard the lady; she has something she wants to say to you."

Tasuki bowed his head, letting his hair fall forward and hide his face. "Tama, please," his voice was choked with grief. "Let me go. I can't do this right now, okay? Just let go."

"No, you idiot, I'm not gonna let go, because if I do, you'll run off with that damned speed of yours, and we won't be able to find you for the next two or three days. Just come here!"

Tasuki shook his head, still hiding his face, unable to speak.

Tamahome dragged him forward, pulling on his hand. "Come on, give me your hand now."

He reached out to Miaka, taking her hand and placing it in Tasuki's.

Tasuki looked up, startled, his eyes red and filled with tears. "I… I don't understand."

Tamahome laughed. "I told you that she chose the best man, didn't I? Well, she chose _you_, you idiot! So quit trying to run away from your new responsibilities! I'm turning her over to you now." His voice softened. "What you witnessed between us; that was just us saying good-bye." Tamahome smiled into the emerald eyes of his first love... the woman he would always love.

Tasuki looked at Miaka with disbelief. She smiled through her tears and nodded at him. He turned his gaze back to Tamahome.

"So...you don't...hate me?" he asked hesitantly.

"I could never hate you, Tasuki," Tamahome said gently. "And for what it's worth, you have my blessing."

"For what it's worth," Tasuki repeated numbly. He moved forward swiftly and pulled Tamahome into his arms, letting himself cry openly. "It's worth everything to me-- everything! I love you, Tama!" he wept.

"I love you, too, Tasuki." Tamahome's reply was muffled against Tasuki's shoulder.

Miaka laughed and cried, her cup overflowing with happiness to see the two of them still as close as brothers.

"And I love BOTH of you!" she shouted happily, leaping at them, sending the three of them tumbling down the hill together. They rolled together on the ground, laughing and crying, occasionally shouting, "I love you!" "No, I love _you!_" while giggling wildly.

Nuriko and Hotohori paused at the edge of the woods, staring at the scene in disbelief.

"You don't suppose they've decided that the three of them--that they _all three_..._together_?" Nuriko broke off, unable to articulate any more of his thoughts.

Hotohori looked scandalized. "Surely not! That would be too..._strange_."

Nuriko sighed and tucked his arm through Hotohori's, looking up into the dark golden eyes of his one true love. "Why can't they just be normal like us, Saihitei?"

"I don't know," murmured Hotohori seriously. Looking down into the dancing violet eyes of his love, he realized that he was being teased. "You!" he said.

Nuriko laughed wildly. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go join them!"

Dragging his emperor along with him, he leapt into the fray. Soon, all five were tumbling like puppies, laughing helplessly as they enjoyed the best afternoon of their lives.

****

**Epilogue. A Circle of Seishi **(full company)

The musical warble of a finch, the notes rising and falling in a joyous arpeggio…

The drowsy buzzing of bees, floating above fragrant blossoms…

The soft whisper of the breeze in the branches that arched high overhead, their desultory dance sending isolated beams of sunlight rippling through the shaded sanctuary…

The green, vibrant fragrance of the thick grass upon which they lay…

Peace reigned supreme here, shimmering in the air, carried by the light breeze, flowing through each of the eight figures sprawled comfortably upon the soft ground of the shaded clearing in the Imperial woods. They lay close together in a loose circle, their heads toward the center so that they could chat and tease and laugh softly without raising their voices. Their bodies radiated outward from the circle like the petals of a flower, like the rays of the sun. Every so often, they would touch one another gently, just to make contact: perhaps brush a lock of hair out of a brother's eyes, lean a forehead against another's back, give a brief squeeze of fingers on another's wrist. Eyes met, hands clasped, hearts touched as they basked in the sense of connection that had grown so strong in them, joining eight different personalities into one heart, one soul…

The velvet tones of the young emperor briefly rose above the softer murmurs of his brothers as he quietly discussed plans with Tamahome and Tasuki for the upcoming search for the Shinzaho.

"I wasn't going to accompany you," he explained. "My ministers are very reluctant to let me leave Konan while war with Kutou looms on the horizon. But I decided that I have a role to play as a Suzaku shichiseishi, a role which supercedes my duties as Emperor. After all, if we fail to obtain the Shinzaho and summon Suzaku, there is little I can _do_ as Emperor to save Konan from Kutou's power. I feel that it's more important for us to stay together as a group. Staying together is the best way to keep us all safe."

His golden eyes drifted over to Nuriko, who lay on the other side of Tasuki. Tamahome gave Tasuki a nudge with his elbow, which was returned with interest.

Nuriko had settled next to Chichiri, taking advantage of his first opportunity to speak at length with the magician since his return from Mount Taikyoku. He wanted to re-establish the closeness between the two that had been forged during the exorcism of the oni. So they laughed and chatted quietly about insignificant matters, Mitsukake joining in with wry remarks from time to time as he reclined between Chichiri and Chiriko.

Miaka had squeezed in between Hotohori and Chiriko. She still kept her distance from Tasuki when they were together with Tamahome. They'd stolen only a brief moment together since her decision, Tasuki taking advantage of a sudden brief moment of privacy to draw her into a fierce embrace for a quick passionate kiss. He'd drawn away immediately, nodding at the figure of Tamahome as he walked away with Nuriko and Hotohori.

"No more of this for now," he'd murmured. "No need to rub his face in it. 'Cause, you see, I know how he feels…" Tasuki's eyes darkened briefly with pain: feeling his brother's pain and also remembering his own pain.

Miaka had squeezed his hand, completely in accord with him, their minds thinking the same thoughts. But Tasuki had brightened, looking down at her beautiful face, suddenly realizing that she was really and truly his…forever.

"Plus now, we have all the time in the world to be together: all the days--and all the nights. All the nights," he had whispered, his eyes suddenly burning with passion.

Miaka felt a brief shiver run through her at the memory of his eyes. She blushed, then pulled herself together, suddenly noticing Chiriko smiling at her as if he knew what she was thinking. Embarrassed, she diverted her thoughts by showing Chiriko the parts of her science textbook which were giving her trouble.

The youngest seishi promised to do his best to help her out. "Although I truly don't know much about science in your world, Miaka."

"That's okay, Chiriko; you probably know more than I do just by glancing at the book!"

He smiled at her compliment, then held the book over his face. The pages kept falling together due to the force of gravity.

Chiriko frowned. "This is a very difficult kind of scroll to read," he muttered to himself, then yawned, the sleepy peace of the afternoon lulling him into a state of semiconscious relaxation.

Miaka listened to the soft murmurs of conversation, the quiet trickles of laughter. Even her lover was uncharacteristically quiet, yielding to the tranquillity of this time and place. After all of the violence, grief, pain and anguish of the past ten days, the Suzaku shichiseishi and their miko had finally reached the resolutions to all of their conflicts, emerging from the hellish ordeal perhaps not intact, but bound together stronger than ever before. They drifted in that comforting sense of togetherness, letting it surround them, embrace them.

"I want to hold onto this moment forever," thought the Priestess of Suzaku. "I want to always remember how we felt, what we thought. When I'm old and gray, I want to remember how we looked, how we loved…"

Suddenly, inspiration struck. She rose carefully from her position, trying not to disturb Chiriko, who had dozed off, her textbook resting on his chest as he unconsciously gripped Mitsukake's sleeve in his right hand. Miaka went over to her backpack, withdrew a square black object, then walked to the tree that shaded their resting place.

The two seishi who loved her watched her activities with quiet interest.

"Whaddaya s'pose she's up to?"

"I don't know - but if I know Miaka, you'd better get ready for trouble."

"Yeah, I figured that."

Miaka put a foot up to a sturdy low branch and began to climb the tree. When she reached a branch that overhung the clearing, she inched out on her stomach, stretching out and holding the black object up to her eye. By this time, Mitsukake, Chichiri, and Hotohori had stopped their conversation to join Tasuki and Tamahome in observing her activities. Nuriko lay quietly, having dozed off like Chiriko. His heart-shaped face still showed traces of the dark circles that surrounded his eyes, but his expression was happy and peaceful. Miaka focused the camera until she captured all seven of her seishi in the lens.

She smiled at the contrast between the brilliant red of their silk shirts and the cool green of the grass that lay beneath them. She would've liked to have taken a picture of her seishi in their new uniforms, but the black coats had been reclaimed by the tailors for storage--and cleaning, in the case of Tasuki's coat. The tailors had clucked and sighed over the grass stains that streaked the formerly pristine surface of the brand-new coat but knew better than to expect remorse from the bandit. Miaka smiled again. Maybe it was better to capture them in their casual clothes, anyway; they were much more themselves.

Mitsukake lay comfortably stretched out on his back, his long arms crossed behind his head, as he met her camera's eye. Chichiri rested on his stomach, chin propped on one hand, unmasked yet still smiling a catlike, mysterious smile. Nuriko and Chiriko still dozed, oblivious to her actions. Hotohori and Tamahome each put one hand up to block beams of sunlight from their eyes as they looked up, Tamahome smiling warmly at her.

And Tasuki…Tasuki rested on his right side, hand beneath his head. For once, he was neither grinning nor frowning nor smirking. He met her gaze steadily, a faint smile lifting one corner of his lips. In his eyes, she once again saw the promise of their future together, and the promise of the night that awaited them. He gazed at her with confidence and love and desire, not needing to say anything, knowing that she knew his thoughts because their souls were one.

Miaka knew that she had to capture him at this moment--she needed to capture them _all_ at this moment, when the future opened before them with all its promise and possibilities. She pressed down on the button, hearing the faint click and the soft hiss as the Polaroid photo slid out from the camera to create the image, forever capturing this moment and the people she loved more than life itself.

Miaka leaned forward to grasp the photograph--but suddenly overbalanced, pitching forward out of the tree before she even had the chance to scream. Strong arms caught her, setting her gently upon the grass. Feeling as if she were being held by a multitude of arms, she looked up to see that both Tamahome and Tasuki had leaped up to catch her, anticipating disaster from the time she had begun to climb the tree.

She smiled at her first love in gratitude. "Thanks, Tamahome."

He blushed. "Yeah, well, I know you well enough by now to see that one coming."

She playfully smacked his arm, then turned to her new love. "Thanks, Tasuki." She was surprised to see that he wasn't smiling.

He turned his fiery amber eyes to her and leaned in close until their lips almost touched. She stood still, surprised and a little displeased that he would kiss her in front of Tamahome. But he stopped just short of touching her.

"Baaa-ka girl!" he growled, then rapped her on the head with his knuckles, the way he always had in the past.

"Mou, Tasuki!" she shouted into his suddenly grinning face, then pushed him down.

He grabbed at her as he fell, and she flailed out, inadvertently taking Tamahome down with them. They crashed down in a heap right next to Nuriko, who awoke with a shriek.

"That's _IT_, Fang-Boy! You are _DEAD!_" he shouted in fury, leaping on top of them.

Chiriko was also startled awake but found himself swept out of harm's way by Mitsukake's strong arms. Chichiri got up quickly to join Hotohori and Mitsukake off to one side, as they watched the shrieking, cursing pile of seishi and miko roll around the grass.

"So much for peace and unity between the Suzaku shichiseishi," Mitsukake sighed.

"Yes… but at least everything's back to normal," Chiriko observed cheerfully.

All three of the elder seishi burst out laughing, leaning against one another as the woods resounded with the exuberant shouts of their brothers and sister.

*******

*******

Glossary of terms:

Heika - Your Majesty

Wo ai ni - I love you (Chinese) (Yes, I _know_ that you know that! I just felt like being a smartass!)

*

**Author's notes:** (4-12-01) First of all, I would like to thank all of you for making it through _OVER 8100 WORDS!_ That's over 1000 words longer than my last record-setting chapter (Ch. 12)! I am one brutal wench! Sorry, sorry, sorry, but once again, I just did _not_ want to break the rhythm of this penultimate chapter.

To Kryssa: Didja like Nuriko's line about bandits with fashion sense? Did it sound familiar?

To address the tessen issue: Yes, I know that Yuu Watase said that only Tasuki could work the tessen. But the reason she gave for this was that it was too heavy for others to handle, and I thought that that was a kinda lame and not-well-thought-out reason. (Lightning strikes Roku, who is now somewhat charred.) (puff of smoke) Well, I'm STILL keeping this non-canonical scene in this fic. : P

And…do you guys recognize the Circle of Seishi picture? And the black Suzaku uniforms? Both are Yuu Watase's artwork in her second FY artbook, so both are canonical! I got back up on _that_ horse, didn't I? (smirk)

If anyone is interested in gettng the "soundtrack" to White Stones, they need only e-mail me with the request. The reason I'm offering is that all the music for White Stones is spread out across 5 or 6 CDs, some of which are difficult to get nowadays. Being that this is copyrighted material, I can only offer to, ahem, _loan_ these...And the _cost_ of this "loan"? It's simple--just a review telling me if the music helps you to see the "movie" that I watch every day!

Wait, wait, wait! I _HAVE_ to do a Mouse-chan-like Akugi at least once in this fic!

**Akugi:**

Tasuki gave one last adjustment to the items and began to walk away from the target. At that moment, the cry of "Rekkkaaaaa SHIN'EEEENNNNNN!" rang out across the training ground, as a gout of flames shot right past Tasuki, singeing him and drowning out his shriek of fury. The flames blasted into their target, knocking it over, igniting rockets and fireworks and sending them shooting everywhere near ground level. Chichiri threw up his kesa, shielding himself and Chiriko from the whizzing rockets. Tasuki and Mitsukake both dove for the ground, the pitch of Tasuki's infuriated screams nearly matching the high-pitched whistling of the fireworks.

Miaka and Nuriko jumped up in horror, as the last of the rockets exploded right on top of Tasuki, blowing him to bits. Tamahome fell over howling with laughter as Hotohori shaded his eyes to see the results of the catastrophe.

"What did I tell you?!" Tamahome crowed. "Smoking bits of flesh, right?"

Miaka stood still in shock and disbelief--then sighed.

_'Well, this makes the decision easier, anyway,'_ she thought.

Turning impulsively to Tamahome, she said, "Have I told you lately how much I _love_ you?"

*

(SPLAAATT! Roku gets hit with a much-deserved rotten tomato.) Okay, okay, OKAYYYYY! I'm nowhere near as good as Mouse-chan at akugis, _all right?)_

Now, back to the _real_ story…

Soooooooo…dontcha just LOOOOOOVE happy endings? Me, too!

Except…this isn't the ending.

Next time: All Aboard for One Last Wild Ride on the emotional roller-coaster known as…

"White Stones in the Moonlight."

Ja ne!

Roku


	20. Chapter 16 Dusk

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Author's note: I really must apologize abjectly. This is_ not _the final chapter of White Stones that I'd promised you, although it is the beginning of the end. This chapter initiates a three-part story arc that will culminate in the last chapter, and I promise you that it will end next time. Hope that you will enjoy this additional penultimate chapter anyway…sigh.

*******

**Chapter 16. Dusk** (Full company)

The mid-morning sun shone brightly on the Imperial Palace in Konan, rays of sunlight beaming down as if in joyful accord with the high spirits of the inhabitants, their problems now resolved and their futures shining before them. Yet not all of the inhabitants welcomed the cheerful sunlight.

Nuriko faltered in his progress along the balcony, his steps unsteady as he held up a hand before his eyes in a futile attempt to keep the light from burning holes in his brain. He leaned against the doors of the chamber he had been seeking, knocking gently while at the same time wincing at the sharp sound.

"Tama-chan?" he called hoarsely. "Are you alive in there?"

A faint groan answered him, prompting him to push open the door and enter the room.

A figure lay on the bed in the darkened room, clad only in trousers, hair still damp from his morning ablutions. He had a towel resting across his eyes, yet he still cried out at the fierce sunlight that streamed in with Nuriko.

"Shut the damn door!" he whimpered.

Nuriko complied, sinking gratefully into a chair in the room. He leaned forward and prodded the figure on the bed.

"Hey, Tama-chan..."

Tamahome removed the towel from his face and stared at Nuriko with bloodshot eyes, their redness visible even in the dim light. "Poke me one more time, and I'll..." he growled threateningly at his friend.

Nuriko paused from rubbing his temples to fix him with a look. "And you'll what?" he asked silkily.

Tamahome turned his eyes towards his bath chamber, fighting a wave of nausea. "And I'll die," he muttered.

The two friends sat quietly for a moment, both trying to determine if their heads were still attached to their bodies and who had replaced their stomachs with burning pits of acid.

Finally Nuriko spoke. "That was the absolute last time I'm ever going to drink sake in my life, I swear it!"

Tamahome gave him a baleful stare. "I don't think it was the sake that did me in--I'm pretty sure that it was the goddam 'Nuriko Specials!' What the hell do you put in those, anyway?"

Nuriko turned green and guilty at the same time. "I'm not only _not_ going to talk about it," he gasped. "I'm not going to _think_ about it, if you don't mind!"

They settled back once more, fighting their nausea and trying to regain their bearings.

Nuriko's mind turned back to the events of the night before that had brought them to this sorry state. After their quietly joyous afternoon in the woods, they had finished the day with an equally happy but much louder dinner back at the palace, the cheerful arguments making it seem just like old times, but even better. Everyone seemed giddy, almost drunk on their sense of togetherness, as they talked, laughed and argued with one another. But the high spirits waned and weariness set in as the sun sank below the horizon, and each of the seishi and miko began to drift back to their own chambers.

Nuriko had been walking along the balcony, having bid a very warm and affectionate good-night to his emperor, when he caught sight of Chiriko's small figure standing transfixed in the twilight. He moved up silently and placed a hand on Chiriko's shoulder. The young seishi jumped but didn't make a sound, meeting Nuriko's questioning gaze, then putting his finger to his lips as he turned back to his quiet vigil. Nuriko followed Chiriko's line of sight to see Miaka's chamber across the way, lamplight shining out in a thin line beneath the closed door. At that moment, a tall figure materialized in front of the door as if by magic, his seishi speed making it seem as if he had appeared out of thin air. He gave a soft melodic whistle and the door swung open, the figure of their priestess appearing in silhouette. The two figures merged and blended in the lamplight, seeming to become one embodiment of Love.

Nuriko stood riveted, guilty at his spying but unable to tear his eyes away from the unexpected beauty of the sight. The door swung shut, granting the couple their privacy once more. He let out a soft sigh…that was echoed further along the balcony. Then he saw the figure that Chiriko had been observing all along, his midnight hair and dark clothing making him blend with the shadows.

The figure placed both hands on the balcony rail and bent his head in sorrow. Nuriko saw two glistening drops fall toward the ground, sparkling in the twilight like diamonds. He felt paralyzed by a sudden flash of grief, momentarily unable to move.

It was then that Chiriko moved swiftly and surely towards the figure, placing a comforting hand on his arm. Tamahome started in surprise, dashing away his tears before looking down at the small figure beside him. Chiriko slipped his arm around Tamahome's waist and leaned his head against his brother. Tamahome placed his hand on Chiriko's shoulder, and the two seishi stood there in the moonlight, one silently offering comfort and the other silently accepting it.

Nuriko watched them in wonder, marveling at Chiriko's wisdom and perceptiveness, and at the changes that had occurred in the youngest seishi. Chiriko no longer held back at the edges of the group; he now moved confidently among them, sure of his place and his ability to contribute as one of the Suzaku shichiseishi.

After a while, the evening air grew chill, and the figures shifted. Nuriko moved forward, making his presence known.

"Hey, Tama-chan," he called softly. "How about we warm up a bottle of sake and catch up with each other? My room's just this way, you know."

Tamahome startled, registering Nuriko's presence for the first time.

Chiriko spoke up. "Actually, Mitsukake sent me to ask you two if you would like to join him and Chichiri in the clinic for a few drinks. Chichiri wants to know what went on here during his absence, and Mitsukake thought that since you two weren't present during some of the more _interesting_ events..." he paused, his eyes sparkling, "...maybe you would like to join them."

"What about you, Chiriko?" Tamahome asked softly, speaking up for the first time.

The youngest seishi grinned and puffed himself up. "Oh, I'm coming, too. In fact, _I'm_ the most important person there, since I'm the one who actually recorded the events!"

Tamahome smiled down at him. "Well then, we really can't afford to miss out on this, can we?"

So that was how they ended up in the large rooms that Mitsukake designated as his clinic, after first stopping off at Chiriko's room to pick up several scrolls. Mitsukake had handed around tiny porcelain cups of warm sake, taking care to bypass Chiriko, who pouted in disappointment. Chichiri, maskless, smiled his catlike smile as he held a cup delicately in his fingers, although none of them actually saw him take a sip. But Nuriko, Tamahome and Mitsukake drank freely, enjoying the taste of the sake and the warmth of the company.

Chiriko brought out his scrolls, at which time they decided to re-enact Hotohori's disastrous speech and the equally catastrophic apology, with Chiriko acting as narrator. Nuriko volunteered to play Tasuki's part since he could do near perfect imitations of his brother warrior, although he was cautioned that the part would require him to attack, threaten, and insult his emperor, played by Mitsukake.

Nuriko shrugged. "Hey, just because I love the guy doesn't mean that I can't make fun of him from time to time."

His brothers laughed and refilled his cup. The read-through was a smashing success, the audience (Tamahome and Chichiri) roaring with laughter at Hotohori's blunders and Tasuki's violent reactions. All five seishi were in stitches at the conclusion of the mini-play, the shadows finally disappearing from Tamahome's eyes. Nuriko laughed just as hard as everyone else at Tasuki's harsh treatment of his emperor, although he made a mental note to knock the bandit into an especially hard wall the next time the opportunity presented itself.

The merriment of the evening had led to Nuriko volunteering to make Nuriko Specials for everyone (except Chiriko). It was shortly thereafter that things became fuzzy in Nuriko's memory. He couldn't even remember how he got back to his room, although his subconscious mind kept presenting him with the image of Chichiri stuffing him into his hat. He also recalled Chichiri cradling the sleeping Chiriko, so he concluded that the monk had just pretended to drink, maintaining his sobriety so as to look after the rest of them. His next recollection was of waking in his room feeling as if he had been trampled by a herd of cattle. After forcing himself through his morning ablutions, Nuriko had dressed himself with difficulty, then stumbled down to Tamahome's room to see how his fellow sufferer was doing.

At this point in his recollections, the door to Tamahome's room slammed open with a sound like the crack of doom, the painful sunlight pouring in behind a tall, shadowed figure.

"Hey, guys!" shouted an agonizingly loud and cheerful voice. "Where the fuck were you at breakfast?"

Nuriko and Tamahome shrieked at the light and the sound, cringing away from the door. "Shut the door!" they whined.

"What the _fuck?_" demanded their tormentor, striding into the room and flinging open the windows so as to get a better look at them.

Peering into each of their faces, Tasuki burst out laughing. "You two look like a couple of night-stalker mononokes caught outside at dawn! Had too much of a good time last night, didja?" he chortled.

Tamahome dragged himself off the bed, incidentally falling to his knees before his brother warrior. "Listen, Tasuki," he whispered hoarsely. "I have money. I will pay you _money_ if you will just SHUT UP and _GO AWAY!"_

Tasuki let out a sharp whistle of surprise, causing Nuriko to wince again and vow to knock Tasuki into _two_ walls--as soon as he could get out of his chair.

"Didja hear that, Nuriko?" the bandit exclaimed loudly, failing to notice that his captive audience was now nearly weeping with pain. "Tama just offered me money! The cheapest bastard I ever met in my whole life just offered me some of his precious okane if I go away! Man, you guys are worse off than I thought. Tama must be near _death_ to consider parting with his ooooo-kaaaaa-neeeee," sang Tasuki happily.

Tamahome glared at Tasuki. "Listen, you sadistic asshole--"

"Ah-ah-ahhh!" warned Tasuki, shaking a finger at his brother seishi. "No insulting the guy who is about to save your lives. You're lucky to be in the presence of the one person who knows how to cure what ails you. Dr. Genrou is IN!" he shouted happily.

"I am gonna _get_ him for this if it's the last thing I do," muttered Nuriko under his breath.

"Come on, you guys, let's march!" commanded their torturer, hauling them to their feet and forcing them out into the sunlight.

"Where are we going?" wept his captives as they were dragged along.

Tasuki pointed at Mitsukake's clinic. "There's the man who has the cure for the world's worst sake hangovers! Hmmm..."

He frowned at the unusually dark and quiet rooms, the doors and windows still closed.

Propping his two burdens against the wall, he pounded on the door and shouted, "Mitsukake!! Open up, goddamnit! Where the fuck ARE YOU?"

His captives continued to cringe and sob at his shouts. The door suddenly swung open to reveal a tall figure hunched in the darkness, looking like the Angel of Death--if the Angel of Death was in the habit of holding a wet towel to his head.

"This had better be important, Tasuki," the figure whispered hoarsely. "Or as Suzaku is my witness, I will draw and quarter you, and feed the dissected bits to the palace _geese!_"

"Ohhhhh, _FUCK!"_ shouted Tasuki, turning to the other two sufferers. "Don't tell me that you assholes were stupid enough to get the goddamn _doctor_ drunk! Now who do you think is gonna help you?"

The three hungover seishi groaned at his shouts. Tasuki pushed Nuriko and Tamahome into the clinic, accidentally shoving Mitsukake aside at the same time.

"Well, I guess it really _is_ up to me to save the day, as usual!" He frowned at Mitsukake, who was just picking himself up off the floor. "Hey, Mits, d'ya think you can hold it together long enough to tell me where you keep your hangover recipe? I would mix up some of my own special cure for ya, but I ran out of th' Mt. Reikaku herbs weeks ago. So, c'mon, cough it up."

The three seishi groaned at his terminology. Mitsukake glared at Tasuki but decided that taking a swing at the obnoxious redhead would probably cause his arm to fall off...followed shortly by his head. He waved weakly at a tattered scroll which lay on the floor where he had dropped it when Tasuki's pounding at the door caused his head to explode. Tasuki scooped up the scroll and perused the contents quickly.

"Yeah, I think I can do this!" he announced happily, leaving out the fact that he didn't know what half the ingredients were.

The three seishi collapsed onto convenient chairs and couches, waiting for their brother to finish his task--or waiting for death, not caring which came first. After putting some water on to boil, Tasuki rummaged around Mitsukake's jars of herbs, frowning at the strange characters on the labels.

"Oh, well," he sighed to himself. "Close enough, I guess!" and he grabbed the nearest jars.

One hour later…

Mitsukake was the last to return from the bath chamber, wiping his mouth and cursing the bandit under his breath. "What the hell did that idiot put in _this_ batch?" he moaned weakly.

Nuriko and Tamahome lay sprawled on the floor, unable to do much more than shudder. Tasuki popped out of the back rooms, cheerfully waving yet another flask of a noxious mixture.

"Hey, guys, I'm sure that I got it right this time! C'mon, there's enough here for everybody!"

The seishi just covered their heads and trembled, Tamahome beginning to weep audibly.

"Come _on_, you bunch of sissy boys! I just know that this is gonna set you straight! Am I gonna have to force it down your throats, or what?"

Nuriko raised his head, fixing Tasuki with a red-eyed glare. "I know what you're doing," he whispered. "You've changed sides. Nakago has sent you here to kill us all--slow deaths by poison. Come on, show me the blue earring."

Tasuki looked hurt. "So this is the thanks I get for tryin' to help out my buddies. Just 'cause I messed up a batch of the medicine--"

"Three batches!" shouted Mitsukake, then grasped his head in agony.

"Alright, three batches. But at least I got you guys to clear the last of the alcohol out of your systems!"

"You got me to clear the last of my major _organs_ out of my system, you asshole!" muttered the crumpled bundle formerly known as Suzaku Shichiseishi Tamahome.

"Okay, I can see that I'm gonna have to get tough with you three. Open up like little birdies now." Amber eyes glowed, and fangs glistened in the gleeful smile.

The three seishi exchanged glances, simultaneously realizing their last hope of rescue.

"Chichiri_iiiiiiiiiiiiii!_" they screamed, trying to reach the magician through the combined forces of their ki.

****

Nuriko stretched and yawned, finally feeling his strength return now that the world had stopped spinning. He looked over at his two fellow sufferers, who also looked more like their normal selves. Chichiri moved quietly among them, checking their ki with an upraised hand, then smiling, satisfied at the results. Taking a peek into the bath chamber, he started back in horror before muttering a spell under his breath. Whatever he conjured did the trick, cleaning up the last traces of sickness in the room.

Tasuki sulked with his arms crossed, legs stretched out before him as he sat in a chair across the room from the others.

"I coulda fixed 'em up just as good as Chichiri," he muttered under his breath. "Jerks can't even give a guy a chance."

Tamahome leaped up from his chair, finally feeling good enough to brawl. "We gave you THREE chances, you asshole! And you damn near killed us!"

Tasuki leaped up, equally ready to brawl. "Who're you callin' an asshole, you asshole?"

A shakujou was suddenly thrust between them, cutting off the impending fight.

"That's enough now, you two," Chichiri admonished softly. "No lasting harm done, no da--and Tasuki did mean well, Tamahome. It's just that he should've called me in the first place."

He winced at the bruise caused by falling out of his chair when the combined ki forces of three of his brother warriors had blasted him with desperate cries for help. He'd transported instantly to the source of the calls, fully expecting to face Kutou assassins or maybe even Nakago himself--only to see nothing more threatening than Tasuki happily waving a flask of some strange mixture before the terrified gazes of Mitsukake, Nuriko, and Tamahome.

A quick examination of the ki of the three afflicted seishi, plus a terse explanation from Tasuki, quickly enlightened him to the nature of the problem. He treated the sufferers with acupressure manipulations, simultaneously adjusting their ki forces in small increments. The purging of the toxins from their bodies had also helped in the cure, although he was certain that they were less than grateful to Tasuki for his successful intervention in that matter, judging from the baleful glares directed at the red-haired seishi. Chichiri decided to intervene before Tasuki found himself at the center of a four-way brawl.

"Tasuki's right, no da. I couldn't have cured you so easily without his previous, er, treatments."

Tasuki smirked in triumph as the other three seishi stared at Chichiri in disbelief.

Chichiri decided to stretch the truth as far as it would go. "And his last batch of medicine would have made you forget all about your hangovers--although it wouldn't have worked as quickly as my treatment."

He omitted the part about the concoction making them forget about their headaches and nausea--by replacing them with severe intestinal cramps that would've lasted for several days. He glanced around to make sure that he had dumped out the formula, and was relieved to see the empty flask. He sent a brief prayer to Suzaku to make Tasuki forget the exact ingredients that went into the deadly brew.

Tasuki grinned in triumph. "See, you guys? Told ya that I was gonna look after you!"

Tamahome and Nuriko merely muttered under their breaths as they got to their feet. Mitsukake, once more in possession of his higher faculties, sent a penetrating look in Chichiri's direction, but the monk merely shrugged and presented his friend with an open, limpid gaze. Mitsukake decided to let the matter drop in favor of emptying his clinic of all extraneous seishi.

"All right, you three," he announced to the younger seishi. "My hospitality is at an end. Get out!"

Tasuki put his hands on his hips and frowned at Mitsukake. "Is that all the thanks I'm gonna get?" he demanded. "Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"OUT!" roared Mitsukake, grabbing the bandit by his collar and tossing him out the door. Tamahome and Nuriko skittered out quickly, not wanting to experience Tasuki 's aerial exit.

Tasuki was getting to his feet outside the door, muttering about ungrateful doctors being the worst patients. He brightened at the sight of his peers, once more returning to his cheerful mode.

"Hey, guys, betcha you're hungry now! C'mon, I'll walk with ya to the dining hall and talk the kitchen help into serving up some early lunch. They love me back there, ya know."

"You mean that you've terrorized them into doing whatever you demand," grumbled Tamahome.

"Always one to nitpick, aren't ya, Tama?" complained Tasuki. "What's the difference? The important thing is that I can getcha some grub. So are you up for it or what?"

Tamahome shook his head, turning in the opposite direction. "Not right now; I have to finish getting dressed. Maybe I'll join you guys later." He raised a hand in farewell without turning around.

Nuriko was struck by the sudden sadness in Tasuki's eyes.

"Guess he's still mad, huh," the bandit murmured softly.

Nuriko grabbed Tasuki's elbow, turning him around. "He's just tired, Gen-chan. It's been a rough morning for him. But I'll take you up on your offer."

Tasuki brightened, smiling at Nuriko. "That's my Nuriko!" he exclaimed. "Always one to forgive and forget!"

Nuriko laughed as they strolled towards the central part of the palace. "I wouldn't be too sure about that, Gen-chan. I swear, the next time I see you with a hangover, you're getting the exact same treatment you dished out to us!"

Tasuki smiled, his eyes suddenly shadowed. "You may hafta wait longer than you think for your revenge, Nuriko."

Nuriko let out a mocking laugh. "You don't _seriously_ expect me to believe that you intend to give up the delights of fermented beverages? You, the foremost carouser in all my acquaintance? Quit trying to yank my chain, Gen-chan!"

Tasuki merely smiled again and shoved his hands into his pockets.

Nuriko frowned, thinking about the last few days. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen you take a drink since the Star-Gazing Festival--" he stopped, suddenly realizing what he had said.

"Yeah," breathed Tasuki, staring at the ground. "Somehow it's not as much fun as it used to be. Don't like it much anymore, that feeling of not being in control…" he trailed off. He shuddered, then smiled up into Nuriko's compassionate eyes. "Maybe I've just grown up, that's all. Hey, it could happen--even to me!" he joked.

Nuriko smiled back but was unable to keep the sympathetic pain out of his eyes. He realized that once again, Tasuki's outward cheerfulness masked the pain that he had to deal with on a daily basis. Yes, Tasuki had won the ultimate prize--Miaka's love--but the fact that they had resolved their biggest problems and that the oni itself had been destroyed by Chichiri did not eliminate the struggles that still lay ahead for both Tasuki and Tamahome. Both seishi would have to deal with their violation for a long time to come, perhaps for the rest of their lives.

Nuriko couldn't think of anything to say to Tasuki that wouldn't sound trite or stupid, so he just wrapped his arms around his friend and leaned his head against Tasuki's chest, listening to the strong, sure heartbeat within. For once, Tasuki didn't push away or act embarrassed; he hugged Nuriko back, leaning his cheek against the soft, flowing violet hair. They remained like that for a long quiet moment, enjoying the comfortable silence.

But silence was not Tasuki's normal state. "Hey," he finally spoke softly. "Ya know, we don't have to have a funeral for the death of sake in my life. I'm not becoming a monk, after all! I just said I wasn't gonna drink to the point of idiocy anymore. Is that such a bad thing?"

Nuriko grinned up at him. "I dunno. I guess I just got used to you being an idiot. But I'm sure you won't disappoint me by giving up that role!"

"Baka!" growled Tasuki affectionately. He turned his eyes to look towards the main wing of the palace. "We'd better break up this clinch before Hotohori sees us and decides to skewer me for tryin' to steal his sweetheart!"

Nuriko stepped back, blushing. "I'm not his sweetheart!"

"Uh-huh. Well, you'd better let _him_ know that before you break his little Imperial heart. The way he looks at you, the guy is definitely in the throes of true love."

"Does he really look at me that way?" asked Nuriko in wonder, forgetting to be embarrassed.

Tasuki laughed. "Hell, it's written all over him every time he sees you!" He grew serious for a moment. "I wouldn't lie to you about somethin' like this, Nuriko. I wouldn't play with your feelings."

Nuriko smiled at him gratefully. "I know you wouldn't, Gen-chan." He clapped his hands together. "Now what about that food you promised me? It's _your_ fault that my stomach's completely empty now, so you'd better pay up!"

"Hey, I wasn't the one that forced the sake down your throat last night!"

Their argument continued as they disappeared around the next corner.

****

Three faces stared sadly at the steady downpour of rain, giant droplets bouncing off the courtyard tiles and drumming insistently on the roof of the palace. The sudden storm had blown up unexpectedly, ruining their plans for another afternoon in the woods, complete with picnic. The two youngest members of the Suzaku family sighed.

"I had everything all ready to teach you guys how to play volleyball," Miaka remarked in a disappointed voice. "And this is probably our last chance before we leave on the journey for the Shinzaho."

Chiriko nodded. "After we went to all the trouble of getting the Imperial fishermen to weave us a short net between two poles, not to mention getting Chichiri's help in making a leather ball that bounces."

Nuriko sighed, his chin resting in one hand. "I sure could've used this overcast sky this morning, I tell you. But _noooo--_it had to come now, just in time to screw up our fun. And His Highness is back in the throne room, working on stupid stuff concerning the future of Konan, instead of playing with us."

Miaka and Chiriko exchanged glances and grinned.

Chiriko piped up. "So does the rain always ruin picnics and games in your world, too, Miaka?" It was his favorite line of questioning. He was endlessly curious about the customs in Miaka's strange world.

Miaka frowned. "It usually ruins picnics and other outdoor fun, that's for sure. But to tell you the truth, I'm really used to playing volleyball indoors, in my school gymnasium."

"What's a gymnasium?" queried Chiriko.

"It's a large open room where people play sports in an enclosed building. My school gym is about the size of…let's see…the throne room. It's about the size of Hotohori's throne room."

Suddenly three pairs of eyes met each other, and three identical gleeful smiles spread across their faces.

"Do you think he'd allow us to--?"

"Well, we won't know unless we ask, will we?"

"You ask him, Miaka; he can't ever say no to you!"

"No, I think that Nuriko is the one he can't refuse now."

"You guys! Anyway, Chiriko is the cutest one, with the big puppy-dog eyes."

"Let's all ask him together!! But first, let's practice the puppy eyes all together--one, two, three--"

Less than an hour later…

The Imperial throne room stood emptied of all its usual courtiers and advisors, its elegant trappings pushed off to the side. The Suzaku shichiseishi and their miko moved busily around the large room, preparing the richly appointed room for its new role as a sports arena. They'd all changed into short-sleeved silk shirts similar to the ones they wore yesterday, and everyone, including Tasuki, wore soft-soled shoes. Nuriko had once more tied his hair into a braid and had also braided his emperor's hair.

Tasuki and Tamahome carefully placed the poles of the volleyball net into two large planters, stabbing the ends between gently curving stalks of bamboo and pushing the planters apart until the net grew taut. Chichiri studied the roughly drawn map of the boundary lines for their "court", then cast a spell that traced chalk-like lines across the elegant tiles. Miaka explained the rules of the game to Mitsukake, Nuriko, Hotohori, and Chiriko and also discussed possible strategies.

"One of the most important things to do is to make sure the teams are balanced, so they both have almost the same level of skill. Height is a real advantage in this game, and short players are considered to be somewhat of a handicap. So Chiriko and I will have to be on opposite teams, since we're the shortest. Since Mitsukake and Chichiri are the oldest, they have to be on opposite teams, too. Though Mitsukake is the tallest, so he will be considered an advantage to his team."

Chichiri smiled to hear himself written off as an "old guy." Miaka suddenly realized that she was inadvertently insulting each of the older seishi, Chichiri in particular, so she quickly amended her statement.

"I mean, they have to be the captains for each team, since they're the, um, wisest."

Nuriko cocked an eyebrow at Miaka's unusually astute statements. "What about me, Hotohori, Tama, and Tasuki? How do we have to be assigned?"

Miaka gave a quick glance towards the two men she loved, noting that for once they were working together without quarreling. "I think that we'd better put Tamahome and Tasuki on the same team; this way, they're a little less likely to get into a brawl than if they're shouting insults at each other across the net. So that puts you and Hotohori on the same team, Nuriko. Since you're not that tall, either, we'd better put you on the same team as Mitsukake."

Nuriko grinned. "Okay, that means that we only have to decide on our token "short stuff." I choose you, Miaka! You seem to know the most about this game!"

Miaka blushed. "Just because I know the rules of the game doesn't mean that I'm a good player, Nuriko. I think it's only fair to warn you--"

"Oh, no, you don't!" shouted an irascible voice. "You guys got Mitsukake, so me and Tama get Miaka!"

Chichiri smiled again, both at Tasuki's unconscious 'sharing' of Miaka with Tamahome, and to hear himself once again dismissed as less valuable than Mitsukake.

"Okay, then, the teams are settled! Chiriko goes with Nuriko, Hotohori and Mitsukake, and I go with Tamahome, Tasuki and Chichiri. Oh, one last rule: no fair using seishi powers!"

"Damn!" muttered Tasuki under his breath.

"Okay, everybody--first volley to determine who serves!"

Time passed, accompanied by shouts, quarrels and laughter.

"C'mon, Tama!"

"Got it! Oops, just bounced it off Nuriko's head!"

"Bwahahahahahahaha!"

"You're getting it next, Fang-boy!" Nuriko shouted, then punched a particularly hard serve across the net. Tasuki decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and ducked.

Crash! The tinkle of shards of fine porcelain scattering across ceramic tiles.

Silence.

A velvet voice, now slightly hard-edged. "That vase had been in my family for generations."

"Eheheheheheh. Sorry, Hotohori-sama...but it was _Tasuki's_ fault! He wasn't supposed to duck!"

"Oi, sissy-boy! D'ya mean I'm _s'posed_ to put my head in the path of your fuckin' nutso serves?"

"That's _exactly_ what I mean, you flaming idiot!"

A calm, soothing voice. "Now, now." The musical chimes of the rings of the shakujou, accompanied by a muttered spell.

"Hey, look at that! It's like new! Whoa, cool, Chichiri!"

The emperor's velvet tones, now softer. "I am indebted to you, Chichiri."

"Ochanoko saisai, na no da."

A brief intermission to move valuable artifacts further out of the line of fire.

A high-pitched voice. "Point!"

"Damnit! That's the third one in a row, Chiriko! What the hell?" Tamahome muttered to Tasuki. "We're getting' killed here, Flame-boy."

"I know," Tasuki growled. "Hey, Chiriko, how the fuck do you keep hittin' those killer volleys?"

"It's just a matter of calculating the physics of the ball's motion, Tasuki-kun. I'm estimating the desired trajectory of the ball, given the small amount of force I'm able to exert plus my limited height. I also take into account the velocity of the ball as it is hit in my direction and the reflected force off my hands, keeping in mind the acceleration of gravity plus centrifugal force from the ball's rotational movement--"

_"Shikuso!"_ cursed Tasuki. "How the fuck are we supposed to defend against _that?_"Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. "Hey, isn't Chiriko cheating by using his seishi powers of intelligence?"

Mitsukake and Chichiri drew together for a conference between team captains.

"Okay, here's our decision," Mitsukake announced. "Chiriko is allowed to use his intelligence since we can't exactly _remove his head_ to even things out!"

"No fair!" shouted Tasuki.

Nuriko smirked. "Hey, Gen-chan, you're free to use the same calculations! Though I'll bet you don't even know what centrifugal force is!"

"I do, too! That's what makes you fall out of your saddle if you ride your horse 'round and 'round a tree!"

Silence.

The high-pitched voice piped up again. "Well, he _is_ right, you know…"

Tamahome's exasperated tones. "The question isn't whether he's right or wrong! The question is who would be stupid enough to do a pointless, idiotic thing like that and _why? _But I guess we have the answers to both questions: 'Tasuki' and 'I don't wanna know!'"

"Fuck you, Tama!"

Sounds of an ensuing brawl.

A very high-pitched female shriek. "Break it up, you two! And I mean NOW!"

The sound of crystal cracking. Followed shortly thereafter by the sound of two bodies hitting the ground, grasping their ears in agony.

The same female voice. "Oops! Sorry, Hotohori…heeheehee."

A weary velvet voice. "Chichiri, if you would?"

"Daaaaaa."

The emperor spoke again, indicating the two bodies lying on the opposite court. "Mitsukake?"

"Nope. Sorry, but they brought that on themselves. They'll just have to recover on their own."

A brief intermission to allow two seishi to regain their hearing, then a return to the game.

The same high-pitched voice. "Point!"

"That's it!" shouted Tasuki. "We're trading right now!" shoving Miaka under the net and grabbing Chiriko.

"Mou, Tasuki!"

"Don't even try it, Fang-boy!" snarled Nuriko, leaping forward and grabbing Chiriko's other arm.

A brief tug-of-war. A high-pitched voice crying "Gakkk!"

The eldest seishi moved in swiftly, the shakujou appearing out of nowhere and hitting both Tasuki and Nuriko over the head.

_"Itaiiiiii!"_

A silky, controlled voice. "Now, if you two are quite finished with trying to tear Chiriko in half, I suggest that you return to the game. It's time we finished, anyway."

With those words, Chichiri stalked back to his position, scooping up the ball on his way. He began serving line drives over the net, making the emperor's team jump all over the court without being able to return a single volley.

_"Sugoi!" _an admiring whistle. "Why the hell have you been holdin' out on us, 'Chiri?"

Miaka jumped up and down in excitement. "We're all tied up! Just one more point, Chichiri, and we win!"

The monk tossed the ball above his head, giving it a hard look with his one eye…then spiked it straight into the net.

"Gahhhhhhhhh!" Tamahome and Tasuki fell over in despair.

Chichiri smiled calmly. "Gosh, look at the time. We have to get cleaned up for dinner. Guess this game ended in a tie, huh?"

He received glares from his two male teammates, but Miaka ran up and threw her arms around his neck.

"You're the best!" she whispered…and Chichiri blushed.

****

The storm had departed as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving the skies clear once more. The full moon began its ascent into the night sky, its silvery light outshining the golden glow of the palace lamps. The Suzaku seishi and miko had finished their dinner and now lounged around the dining hall, still laughing and arguing about the volleyball game. Suddenly Chichiri stood up and left the room. He returned a short while later.

"Tamahome," he called softly. Tamahome looked up, getting to his feet and walking over to the magician. "It's time for us to go to Mount Taikyoku to retrieve your seishi power."

Tasuki began to whistle and clap, but stopped when he saw the grim expression on the monk's face. "What's the matter, 'Chiri?"

Chichiri suddenly changed his expression, smiling at his brother seishi and miko. "Nothing's the matter; it's just that there's been a slight change in plans. Taiitsukun informed me that she wants all of us at Mount Taikyoku: all of us seishi and Miaka, as well. She will be transporting us shortly."

The room buzzed with quiet murmurs of surprise and speculation. Mitsukake walked over to his friend and drew him aside for a private talk.

"Tell me," he said simply.

Chichiri shrugged. "There's really nothing to tell as yet." He met Mitsukake's gaze steadily, then sighed. "I'll be honest with you: I don't like it. I don't like surprises, _especially_ from Mount Taikyoku." He shivered imperceptibly.

Mitsukake placed a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever awaits us, Chichiri, we'll face it together. From now on, all of us will face everything together."

Chichiri smiled up at his friend but was unable to conceal the sudden darkness in his eye. "I hope so…" he whispered. "I hope so."

*******

*******

Glossary of Japanese Terms:

Ochanoko saisai, na no da - Piece of cake, or No problem, no da! I got this phrase from Purple Mouse, who said that it's part of the title of Chichiri's theme song, "(It's a) Piece of cake to change my appearance…"

Itai! - Ouch! or It hurts!

*

**Author's note:** (4-24-02) Well, I'm going to apologize again for promising you the last chapter and then failing to deliver the whole thing. This chapter started out as a short intro leading into the Mount Taikyoku scene, but it sort of blew up into full-chapter length (6300 words!) and took on a life of its own. I don't know - it's like this fic doesn't want to end! But end it will, and the last chapter will be the next time for _certain_, since the Suzaku crew are now on their way to Mount Taikyoku! As I mentioned in the beginning of this chapter, this story is ending in a three-part arc, with the first part in this chapter and the remaining two parts in the last chapter, which is now Chapter 17. Thank you for your patience with my rambling and dawdling…

More rambling: I've tried to research comparative religions to get a handle on Chichiri's beliefs, and I've run into some differing rules for the conduct of Buddhist monks. One major Buddhist sect from India forbids their monks from imbibing any sort of intoxicant - that's why I have Chichiri just holding a drink instead of sipping it. Although some sects of Buddhism urge their monks to abstain from all earthly desires to achieve enlightenment, other sects are rather relaxed about the fine points and just urge rejection of promiscuity and other sinful behaviors. In other words, their monks can marry and raise a family. However, although he dresses the part, Chichiri can't really be a Buddhist monk, since Buddha was unlikely to exist in the alternate Universe of the Four Gods (which has only--get this--four gods!) So Chichiri is a monk of Suzaku instead of Buddha and I guess we can make up any rules of conduct that we want for him! Which I intend to do in my crossover fic. Hah!

And yeah, I realize that having Chirko and Tasuki know what centrifugal force is without them ever having encountered a centrifuge (which usually runs on electricity) is more than a little anachronistic, but I didn't know what else to call it. It's not unlikely that Chiriko (and maybe even tree-circling Tasuki) would be familiar with the "force generated during rapid rotation that pushes objects into a trajectory that is perpendicular from the center of the rotation"--but that explanation would be a heck of a mouthful for Chiriko, not to mention completely OOC for Tasuki! Therefore, "centrifugal force" it is. All anachronism complaints may be directed to the Fanfic Department of Physics, c/o Roku Kyu. :P


	21. Chapter 17 White Stones in the Moonligh

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

This chapter is dedicated to my sister, Chichiri's Girl, who is worthy of the respect of the Suzaku shichiseishi for her tremendous strength and courage in the face of overwhelming loss. The Sorcerer himself would be proud to stand by your side, Beem…as am I.

*******

**Chapter 17. White Stones in the Moonlight ** (Full company)

**Part I. Nightfall**

Musical Selection : "Poeme" by Secret Garden from their CD "White Stones," copyright 1997 PolyGram Publishing, Norway.

*

The full moon rose towards its zenith above Mount Taikyoku, its silver glow contrasting with the golden radiance of the mystical spheres which floated above the grounds outside Taiitsukun's palace. Eight figures shimmered into existence in the open courtyard, swaying slightly as they tried to regain their balance. Tasuki, Mitsukake, and Chiriko turned around and around, staring open-mouthed at their surroundings, having never seen Mount Taikyoku before. Hotohori, Nuriko, Tamahome, and Miaka recognized the courtyard but were still enchanted by the mystical effect of the gleaming spheres at night. Chichiri, frowning, stepped apart from the others and paced around the grounds, his keen senses alert as he surveyed the area.

Suddenly, four cherubic blue-haired girls popped into existence right beside the seishi. Tasuki and Chiriko shrieked in surprise. The blue-haired girls giggled and swooped among them, chattering enthusiastically.

"Greetings, greetings!"

"Suzaku no seishi!"

"Suzaku no Miko!"

"Do not be afraid!"

"We are Nyan-nyan!"

"We help, help!"

Miaka and Nuriko waved cheerily at the girls, Nuriko growling at Tasuki. "Get a grip, Fang-boy! They don't bite!"

Tasuki ducked as a Nyan-nyan swooped nearby. "I don't care," he grumbled. "They're fuckin' weird!"

Chichiri, impatient with the deliberate distractions, strode into the center of the confusion and slammed his shakujou into the ground, its rings chiming sharply. The Nyans immediately diverted their attention to him. They swooped and dove around the unflinching monk.

"Chichiri-sama's here!"

"Chichiri-sama's back!"

"Nyan-nyan _missed_ Chichiri-sama!"

Chichiri stared intently at the Nyan-nyans, then, to the considerable surprise of his fellow seishi, he reached up and snatched one of them out of the air, pulling the Nyan off to the side for a private talk. The other Nyan-nyans began to twitter and swoop aimlessly without addressing any remarks to the rest of the seishi.

"All right, Nyan," Chichiri glared into the now silvery eyes of the lead girl. "What's going on? Why did Taiitsukun send for all of us instead of just me and Tamahome?"

Nyan narrowed her eyes in malicious amusement. "Your business is with Taiitsukun, not her guardian spirit."

"Fine. Then get Taiitsukun here to explain herself."

Nyan pulled out of his grasp, smoothing her tunic and straightening her ribbons. "The oracle appears in her own time, at the bequest of the gods. She does not follow the commands of renegade monks."

"Very well. I am a patient man. However, I'm afraid that I can't say the same for my young associates." He nodded towards Tasuki, who had pulled out the tessen and was nervously pointing it at the duplicate Nyan-nyans which now swooped silently around him. "It seems likely that Taiitsukun's courtyard will shortly be in for some incendiary remodeling, given the level of anxiety in certain seishi who are kept waiting. I _could_ try to calm him, of course…but who am I to interfere, being only a renegade monk?"

Nyan hissed suddenly, noting the tensing of muscles in the tessen arm of the troublesome fifth seishi of Suzaku. She gave a quick wave of her hand, and the duplicate Nyan-nyans vanished, causing Tasuki to jump back with a surprised shout. Tamahome and Nuriko began laughing at him.

"Shut up, assholes!" he growled at them, pointing his tessen in their direction, intending to singe them slightly.

"Don't you point that thing at me, you fanged idiot!" shouted Nuriko.

Tamahome leaped forward to try to knock the tessen out of Tasuki's hands just as Tasuki yelled "Rekka Shin'en!" The flames shot out of the tessen, incinerating a rhododendron bush, and all three seishi began brawling. Chichiri merely raised his eyebrows and lifted his hands as if to say "See?" Nyan growled deep in her chest, her eyes flashing silver and her form beginning to change.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Chichiri remarked drily. "Not unless you want your silver fur redone in charcoal, not to mention getting a few lumps from Tamahome and Nuriko. They may be brawling now, but you'll be amazed at how quickly they'll pull together against a sudden threat. Although I know that you're not permitted to harm them, _they_ won't know that...and I may not be quick enough to stop them. You see, I'm still meditating on Taiitsukun's motives, so I'm slightly distracted."

Nyan hissed again at the insolent monk. "Very well. Taiitsukun will be here very shortly, so get your fellow seishi under control NOW!"

Chichiri turned and strode into the center of the brawl, slamming his shakujou into the ground. Tasuki and Nuriko stopped wrestling immediately, remembering what it was like to be on the receiving end of a blow from the ornate staff.

Miaka joined Chichiri in pulling them to their feet. "You guys," she admonished softly.

At that moment, Taiitsukun materialized before them, her ribbons snaking around her. Everyone except Chichiri yelled in surprise. Hotohori covered his eyes in dismay at her ugliness, while Chiriko hid his face in Mitsukake's tunic.

_"Sunakake-babaa!_" breathed Tamahome.

"You said it, 'Home!" growled Tasuki. "I'm never gonna get used to that ugly mug of hers!"

Taiitsukun's voice rang out, harsh and displeased. "Suzaku no Seishi! Of all the Celestial Warriors I have ever known, you are the _most_ troublesome! And when you consider those homicidal idiots who serve Seiryuu, that's no small accomplishment! Pull yourselves together," she glared at Hotohori, "and try to conduct yourselves with at least a modicum of the dignity expected from Suzaku's chosen ones!"

All of the seishi except for Chichiri shuffled their feet and grumbled.

Chichiri stepped forward and met Taiitsukun's glare. "We are here as requested. What do you want of us, Taiitsukun?"

"You are here by Suzaku's command, not mine. I will speak to you in due time, Suzaku no Chichiri, but there are some matters that I must deal with first." She lifted her eyes towards the group. "Suzaku no Tamahome! Suzaku no Tasuki! Step forward, please!"

The two young seishi jumped guiltily, thinking that Taiitsukun had overheard their whispered comparisons of her face to various species of amphibians.

"We are gonna _get_ it now," moaned Tamahome under his breath.

They approached the oracle in trepidation.

Taiitsukun slowly descended from her previous position floating high above them to settle gently upon the ground before the two young seishi. To their astonishment, she bent forward from the waist, bowing deeply before them. They stared at her, unsure of what to say or do.

Finally she spoke. "I apologize abjectly and sincerely to you for the suffering brought upon you by my carelessness. Suzaku no Tasuki," she raised her eyes to meet his gaze, "there are no words nor recompense sufficient to atone for the wrongs you have suffered as a result of my actions; I will not insult you further by attempting to compensate you with material offerings. I can only assure you that your courage and strength, not to mention your compassion for your fellow victim, have taught me a great deal about the human spirit and forever instilled in me respect for you and your fellow man.

Taiitsukun turned to Tamahome, "As for you, Suzaku no Tamahome, your suffering has also taught me much about the deep-seated honor in the human soul. You took responsibility upon yourself for the crimes of the demon that possessed you, and incarcerated yourself for the safety of your fellow seishi but also in misguided atonement for my mistakes. This experience has made me aware that there are always consequences to actions, even the actions of celestial beings--and with the knowledge of those consequences comes responsibility. Therefore, in the future, I will take the utmost care in my personal dealings with humans. In other words, Suzaku no Tasuki and Suzaku no Tamahome, you have changed _me_, and for that you have my gratitude and my admiration."

Tasuki and Tamahome exchanged glances, then nodded at Taiitsukun, uncertain of what to say. They could hardly assure her that everything was all right--it wasn't, and forgiveness was something that they would have to work out over time. But Taiitsukun had not asked for their forgiveness, being perceptive enough to realize that it was an impertinence to ask them to put resentment over their violation behind them. She seemed satisfied with their response, and they were glad for her acknowledgment of her culpability in their suffering.

The oracle rose again to her former position. "Suzaku no Tamahome, step forward to reclaim your seishi power from Suzaku. You may choose whomever you like to stand with you."

Tamahome stepped forward, then, without turning around, he reached his hand behind him. Tasuki took the proffered hand, gripping it firmly and standing beside him. Their brother warriors and miko felt tears come to their eyes as they witnessed once again the bond of fraternal love between the two young men: a bond that had nearly been broken by evil, then strained by their mutual love for their miko, emerging from the forges of their trials to become stronger than ever before.

Taiitsukun gestured to Nyan, who flew up to present her with her crystal shakujou. The oracle intoned a rhythmic sutra, infusing each phrase with ritual dignity. The shakujou suddenly blazed with crimson light, the crystal rings catching the light like a prism, sending multicolored beams of radiance shimmering throughout the courtyard like dancing rainbows. The rainbow light swirled across the awestruck features of the Suzaku family before consolidating once more into its original brilliant crimson hue. The crimson light then swirled upward out of the shakujou, pausing for a moment at its apex before spiraling back down towards Tamahome, sparkling around him before suddenly darting towards his forehead.

He gasped as the power streamed into him, his knees buckling at the force of the impact. Tasuki swiftly moved his arms around Tamahome to support him, using his body to prop him, as Tamahome briefly leaned his head back against his shoulder. Suddenly the oni sign blazed forth from his forehead, its pure crimson light shining out, illuminating the faces of his dearest friends. Tamahome pulled away from Tasuki, standing straight and strong on his own…then turned and took his brother into his arms. The rest of the seishi and Miaka exploded into cheers, tears falling as they rushed towards the two to congratulate and embrace them.

Taiitsukun regarded them for a moment, her jaw tightening with some untold emotion. Nyan, too, bowed her head, momentarily overcome by the vivid display of love between the members of the Suzaku family. Finally, Taiitsukun seemed to regain control. Looking up, she sent out a silent message to Chichiri. The monk looked up from the center of the celebration, startled at the summons, having briefly lost himself in the joy of the moment. He gently disentangled himself from his brothers' embrace and strode towards the oracle. Taiitsukun descended to float near him, speaking quietly and intensely as Nyan hovered protectively nearby.

Mitsukake suddenly felt a jolt from Chichiri's ki and drew away from the hugs, laughter and tears. Looking around at the younger seishi, he noted that they did not seem to notice any disturbance, continuing in their happy interchanges. He withdrew as unobtrusively as possible from the group, walking purposefully towards the conference between seishi and oracle.

Taiitsukun frowned at the doctor's approach. "I do not recall inviting you here, Suzaku no Mitsukake," she rebuked coldly.

"_I_ called him here," answered Chichiri, his voice vibrating with barely suppressed rage. "I think you need to hear from a _human_ doctor about the possible consequences of your proposed actions upon these young people. Do you think that your celestial games will leave them untouched? What hypocrisy you spew, assuring us that you will take all due care in dealing with humans from here onward! The words have barely left your mouth before you once again play us for fools, violating all of us to serve your own purposes!"

Taiitsukun's eyes narrowed in rage, but she kept her voice icily controlled. "You will take care, Suzaku no Chichiri, for my patience with you wears very thin! I can only make promises as to my own actions. What I am telling you comes directly from your god, whom I do not presume to control! I will hear you out, out of respect for you and your insights, and I will also agree to hear from the healer of Suzaku. I will even transmit your concerns directly to Suzaku, allowing you to use my body as a direct conduit to your god. But I warn you, this decision has not been reached easily by the god who loves you. He has pondered the problem and all possible outcomes for many days, and it is unlikely that either of you have any new insights that he has not already taken into account. But I shall do as promised. Give me your hands."

She reached out her hands and closed her eyes, tilting her head back. Chichiri and Mitsukake each took one of Taiitsukun's hands, then completed the circle by clasping hands with each other. Mitsukake flinched at the sudden jolt of power coursing through him. Chichiri merely closed his own eyes, concentrating his_ ki _with fierce energy.

Miaka looked up from the now quieter celebration, her eyes widening at the sight of the strange communion between Taiitsukun and the elder seishi. Tamahome followed her gaze to see lightning-like energy crackling around the three, giving off an ozone scent reminiscent of summer storms.

"What the _fuck?_" breathed Tasuki softly, making Nuriko and Hotohori look up from their tender embrace.

Chiriko's eyes grew wide with wonder. "Suzaku," he whispered in awe. "They are speaking with the god."

Suddenly the circle broke apart, the seishi and oracle dropping their hands. Chichiri turned around slowly, picking up his shakujou with motions stiff and stunned--then whirled around, slamming the end of the staff into the ground in rage. The younger seishi could hear his voice upraised in wrath as he lunged towards the oracle, Mitsukake restraining him, as Nyan's form appeared to glow silver for an instant. Taiitsukun floated higher but maintained her temper, waving a hand to seal off all sound from the watching seishi.

Chichiri panted, pulling against Mitsuskake's grip before finally yielding to the futility of his struggles. "What if I refuse to allow you to do this?" he challenged Taiitsukun. "What if I decide to oppose you _and_ Suzaku--what will you do _then_?"

Taiitsukun glared at him but still maintained her composure. "Why, then, you may leave. Neither Suzaku nor I will attempt to stop you. You may take your brother seishi and your miko and leave this place and leave this _country_ for all we care!" Her voice hardened. "But do not ever again present yourselves as servants of Suzaku. You will be only renegade warriors with no allegiance to anyone, and you may be content to watch the people of Konan die, crushed in the iron grip of Kutou, for your god will NEVER appear to you again! He has tolerated much from you, Chichiri, but this time you go too far! Your god has spoken directly to you, and if you persist in your defiance, the people of Konan will die for your arrogance, for it is far too late for us to find another set of celestial warriors to take your place."

Chichiri stared at her, tears of rage falling from his eye. "How do you know that this is the only way? Convince me of that, at least! Is there _no_ chance that we could make it work as we are now? Are you _certain _that there is no other way?" His voice was broken, pleading.

Taiitsukun sighed. "As you are well aware, not even the gods can predict the future with perfect accuracy. But we have looked at all possible outcomes, and there is less than a one-in-twenty chance of you succeeding as things stand now." She frowned at the sudden hope in the monk's eye. "Do not consider it, Chichiri. You may be willing to gamble your fate and the fates of all your brother seishi on such odds, but your god is not willing to gamble with the lives of his people. His decision stands as is, and it is irrevocable."

Mitsukake put his hand on his brother's bowed shoulders, trying to impart some comfort to the grief-stricken monk.

Taiitsukun's voice softened with compassion. "Chichiri, Suzaku agrees to exempt you from his…decree. He, in his wisdom and compassion, feels that you will act responsibly if he grants you this favor."

He looked up, his glance cold and cynical. "You know that I would not permit it in any case."

"There is that consideration as well, yes," Taiitsukun conceded grudgingly, acknowledging his other powers.

Chichiri played his last hand. "Nor Mitsukake, either. I want Mitsukake exempted as well."

"Justify this request, Chichiri. You are insolent in your continued demands."

He released his control, letting his features show his grief. "I need him," he said simply. "I need someone to share this burden. I can't do it alone," he bowed his head, his sorrow making him appear young and vulnerable.

Taiitsukun floated silently for a moment, her face briefly reflecting his grief. She then hardened her features into their customary scowl. "Very well. Your god grants you your last request. I shall remind you to remember his compassion the next time you feel the need to question his love." She turned her gaze towards the anxious, muttering group of young seishi who stood in the courtyard.

"Now, if you will excuse me--it is time."

Her voice was suddenly heavy with weariness. Taiitsukun turned away from Chichiri and Mitsukake, and floated toward the five younger seishi and their miko. Nyan flew close by her side but remained uncharacteristically silent. The seishi and miko drew themselves up apprehensively, unsure of what to expect afterwitnessing Chichiri's obvious rage.

"Suzaku no Seishi and Suzaku no Miko." Taiitsukun's ancient voice rang out, resonating around the mountain, her solemn tones infused with ceremonial dignity. "I wish to congratulate you on your extraordinary courage and even more extraordinary heart in meeting and overcoming this catastrophe that had occurred in your midst--a catastrophe which I, in my carelessness and to my everlasting regret, had brought upon you. I have already apologized to Suzaku no Tasuki and Suzaku no Tamahome, but I wish to extend my apologies to all of you. You have proven yourselves to be a true family in every sense of the word, and this ordeal has affected each of you as it would any member of a close-knit family."

Taiitsukun paused, her voice softening as she looked into the young, beautiful faces turned up toward her. "In all my centuries, I have seen many groups of Celestial Warriors, but never before have I witnessed this degree of unity and love between _all_ members of a group. This cataclysmic event and the changes it precipitated could have torn you all apart; it could have forced you into opposing camps and destroyed forever any chance you had to work together as the cohesive unit you are required to be. But your love for one another exorcised the evil that had encroached upon you, driving back the darkness with the light of your pure souls. Once again, I congratulate you, Suzaku no Seishi and Suzaku no Miko--you are truly unique, even among the exceptional individuals who claim the title of Celestial Warriors."

The group relaxed and beamed in relief. Miaka squeezed Tasuki's and Tamahome's hands as they grinned at each other over her head. Nuriko leaned against Hotohori, beaming up at his emperor while at the same time placing a gentle hand on Chiriko's shoulder.

"However," Taiitsukun's voice grew hard as she drew herself up, "this degree of unity between you has unfortunately happened too soon." She steadily met their startled gazes, although Nyan kept her eyes cast down. "What has happened between all of you was not meant to happen yet, not at this point in time. You have shifted loyalties..." she said, gazing at Miaka, "changed your priorities..." scowling at Hotohori, "altered your destinies," meeting Tamahome's frown. "These changes have transformed your dynamic as a group and have diverted you from the path of true Celestial Warriors...which is to devote yourselves to the service of your god. And your god cannot allow this digression, not from his seishi and especially not from his miko."

A ripple of anger ran through the group.

Miaka lifted her eyes to Taiitsukun, her cheeks flushed with guilt. "Taiitsukun, please!" she cried. "If my actions have displeased Suzaku in any way, let me be the one to receive his punishment! Don't punish any of the others for my choices!"

"No fuckin' way!" roared Tasuki, leaping in front of her. "I'm the one to blame for anything that's pissed off Suzaku--but if he's got a problem with Miaka, he'll hafta go through me first!"

Tamahome stepped up to stand beside Tasuki. "And me!" he snarled. Nuriko and Hotohori also moved to stand angrily beside them.

"_Enough!_" bellowed Taiitsukun. "I will hear no more of this blasphemy from any of you!"

Nyan hovered closer to Taiitsukun, her eyes beginning to flash silver.

Taiitsukun glared over at Chichiri and Mitsukake, who stood silently with clenched fists. "This is the very reason _why_ the line between seishi and miko must not be crossed. This shifting of loyalties away from your god cannot be tolerated! You forget yourself, Suzaku no Tasuki! And the rest of you, as well. You forget to whom you owe your allegiance, your very existence! By my command, you will all be _silent_ before you succeed in angering your god, who up until now has shown you nothing but compassion."

They became quiet but remained defiant, muttering angrily.

Taiitsukun fixed them once again with her basilisk's stare. "Suzaku has no desire to punish any of you. You are his chosen ones, and he has not forgotten that. However, it appears that you have forgotten _him_." Having re-established her control of the situation, Taiitsukun lowered her voice. "I speak of the overwhelmingly strong connection which links each of you to the other, this connection that has been forged _before its predestined time_ by the traumatic events of the past eleven days. Nothing now matters to you more than one another - not the Shinzaho..." once again she looked at Miaka, "nor the country of Konan..." looking at Hotohori, "nor the summoning of your god," she finished, frowning at all of them. "Your premature devotion to one another has taken precedence over the devotion you owe to your god, as you all have just vividly demonstrated."

She glared at Tasuki, who returned her stare just as coldly. "From this point onward, your actions would be dictated primarily by your deep love for each other, causing you to put the personal welfare of your fellow seishi and miko above _every other_ consideration. And in attempting to preserve each other above all, you stand to lose _everything!_ _All_ of your lives, and the lives of your fellow countrymen! If the summoning of Suzaku is not your foremost priority, then you will FAIL to summon him, and the people of Konan will die under the whip of Kutou. It is the destiny of Celestial Warriors to place the summoning of their god above all other purposes. By digressing from your destined path, everything that you have been born to protect stands in gravest peril. And that is not acceptable to your god!"

Taiitsukun drew a deep breath, looking at the shocked faces of the seishi and miko who stood before her. She concentrated her ki to keep her voice strong and steady. "So it is the decree of Suzaku that you all be returned to your original destined path, to the path you trod before the cataclysmic events precipitated by the advent of the oni."

Nuriko could keep silent no longer. "How can you hope to accomplish that?" he burst out. "Do you mean to turn back time so that everything that happened to us, everything that changed us, _never_ occurred?"

"No, Suzaku no Nuriko." Taiitsukun's voice was patient, suddenly gentle. "Time is not the linear path that you mortals believe it to be. It is a complex web that curves around itself, strands connecting to strands in such a way that tampering with any one thread can cause unseen complications throughout the entire web. There are very few beings who have the knowledge and the power to navigate the treacherous shoals of time modification...and even fewer of those beings who dare to make the attempt."

Taiitsukun frowned, briefly recalling a wandering traveler who carried such knowledge and daring, hidden behind the cheerful insouciance of his green-blue gaze. She turned her gaze on Chichiri, who met her stare steadily, keeping his secrets to himself. Once again, Taiitsukun turned to address the rest of the seishi.

"As I said, we cannot undo what has been done--but Suzaku does have the power to erase all of your conscious memories of these events so that they no longer alter your relationships. And that is his decision: that you shall forget all that has occurred in the past eleven days, and you will return to where you were on the night of the Star-Gazing Festival, before the end of the Festival and the advent of the oni. The intervening time between then and now will be explained as time you have spent here on Mt. Taikyoku and at the Imperial Palace in special training for your mission to seek the Shinzaho." Taiitsukun finally lowered her gaze from the shocked, silent stares of the seishi and miko.

"No!" a voice cried out, shattering the silence. "I don't want that!"

Tasuki's voice was desperate, thick with rage. "Let everyone else forget, let _her_ forget _me_...but I'll _keep_ my memories! I'll keep the memory of the degradation and the humiliation, if that's the only way that I can keep the memory of everyone reaching out their hands to pull me up again--if that's the only way that I can keep the memory of her love!"

"Suzaku no Tasuki!" barked Taiitsukun, her voice harsh. "This is not a _choice_ that I am offering you! This is the decree of your god, and this is what _shall_ happen, whether you will it or no!"

She looked into his face, his eyes bright with tears of rage, and she saw the grief and pain behind his anger and felt the loss that she had unintentionally set him up for. Her voice softened with compassion as she struggled to make him understand the will of the gods.

"You, of all people, have been the most profoundly changed by this experience...and the changes in you would go on to reverberate in your brother seishi and miko until we all ended up back at this point, which is unacceptable to your god. So I am sorry, Tasuki, but what you ask is impossible. The only thing that I can grant you--any of you-- is a few last moments together before the spell takes effect."

Tasuki clenched his fists in impotent rage. Hotohori turned stricken golden eyes to Nuriko, clasping the shoulders of his love as he gazed into his tear-filled violet eyes, feeling the pain burn through his chest as he contemplated the loss of everything he had gained--as he contemplated a future in which he walked alone, accompanied only by his sense of duty. Nuriko's violet eyes reflected the same grief as he foresaw the same solitary journey through the end of his days.

Tamahome stared down at the ground, confused by the burgeoning hope in his heart. "So she'll be mine again.--really and truly mine? I'll have another chance with her?" he thought. He was torn by his conflicting emotions, feeling joy stirring in his heart...until he looked up at his brother's despair.

Tasuki felt a touch on his arm and turned away from glaring at Taiitsukun to see emerald eyes gazing up into his, the tears spilling freely as she fought for control.

"I...I guess this is good-bye, then," Miaka said softly, not allowing her voice to break, wanting to speak her heart to him in these last few moments they would share.

"Miaka, please don't," Tasuki pleaded, suddenly gentle, "you know how it hurts me to see you cry. You know, we're still going to see each other every day." He attempted a hopeful smile that might have been reassuring if it hadn't trembled and died on his lips.

"But we won't _really_ see each other, will we? Not like this..." Miaka reached up her hand to caress his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes, "…not with eyes and hearts made clear by love."

"Miaka, listen," Tasuki took her hands, staring intently into her eyes. "I loved you before any of this happened, and I promise to keep loving you and protecting you--I'll always be here for you!"

"But the difference is that I won't be here for _you_, will I?" Miaka's tears kept falling as she gazed at Tasuki with love, her voice now filled with bitter pain. "Yes, you'll go on loving me, sacrificing for me--and I'll go on taking you for granted, pushing my love for you so deep inside me that I'll never know it exists, leaving you to fight alone..." her voice broke at last. "To love…alone!" she gasped.

Tasuki took her face in his hands, determined to give her hope, determined to give them both hope. "Miaka, please…you've got to believe like I do, with all my heart and soul, that someday I'll look into your eyes and see that love shining there again..." He caught his breath. "If not in this life," a sob escaped him, "then in the next."

Nyan flew up and began to pull Miaka gently away from Tasuki. Tasuki gazed at Miaka desperately, trying to hold onto every last moment, trying to keep hold of the tears that stood in his eyes, the last precious gifts he would ever receive from her--

Suddenly a voice cried out in grief and rage. "By all the _Gods_, you can let them have one _last_ _kiss!"_

Letting his fury take hold of him, Tamahome leapt forward and broke Nyan's grip on Miaka.

Miaka darted forward, flinging herself into Tasuki's arms. His mouth crashed down on hers, and they clung to each other fiercely, grasping at one another's clothes and hair, trying desperately to memorize the way it felt to hold their dearest love in their arms and to be held in return; trying to memorize the way their bodies curved into each other, melding them into one being, one soul. They clutched each other frantically, trying to force their bodies to remember what their minds would be compelled to forget.

Their brothers wept to see their desperation, Tamahome crying hardest, understanding the depth of their pain. Hotohori gripped Nuriko's hands tightly, knowing that momentarily, they, too, would lose all that they had gained in the past few days; they would lose the clarity of mind and heart Miaka had spoken of.

At a signal from Taiitsukun, Nyan held up her hand, conjuring mystical ice-like crystals from the air and gently scattering them over Tamahome. His sparkling grey eyes dimmed and closed, his arms falling to his sides, releasing her. She cast the snow of forgetfulness over Hotohori, Nuriko and Chiriko, tears falling from their eyes as their souls were forced to part from one another. She then flew up to the lovers, once again drawing Miaka gently out of Tasuki's grasp.

Miaka locked eyes with Tasuki as she was pulled back. "I love you, I'll always love you, I'll never stop loving you..." she chanted like a mantra, fighting to keep the memory of their love.

Tasuki gripped her fingers, looking desperately into her eyes, watching as the enchanted snow fell upon her, melting into her.

Miaka gasped, shivering, her eyes fluttering closed. She opened them a few moments later, the emerald orbs now clouded, confused. Looking up at him, she murmured, "Ta... Tamahome?" turning her face away to look for her first love.

Gently, Tasuki released her fingers...softly, lovingly, he let her go. He watched her walk away from him, her figure blurred by the tears standing in his eyes.

"Let it be, then," he thought, accepting the pain that burned through him like a cleansing flame. "If she's forgotten her love for me, then let me too forget--forget how it ever felt to _be_ loved by her. Let it all end..." So thinking, he tilted his head back, the precious tears slipping from him at last, escaping him to mingle with the enchanted crystals that now fell upon him.

Nyan, her duties completed, flew back to Taiitsukun's side, clinging to the oracle and burying her face in her dress. Taiitsukun turned her face away from the eishi of Suzaku, the lines around her mouth deepening as her jaw tightened.

Chichiri and Mitsukake stood apart, tears in their eyes, watching their friends as the mystical snow took effect. They saw Hotohori startle at his grasp on Nuriko, releasing the young seishi and stepping quickly away from him. Nuriko seemed to return to himself at that point, looking briefly at his emperor, then looking down again, gently touching the fingermarks that stood out on his hands, wondering who had gripped him so tightly. Chiriko looked up at his brother seishi, seeing their tears, then backed away quietly, keeping to himself. Miaka stood beside Tamahome, wondering dimly why her heart ached so much.

And Tasuki... Tasuki stood off by himself, his back to the others, touching his fingers to his face, then staring in wonder at the tears that glistened in his hand. His eyes were filled with such grief and pain and loss that Mitsukake and Chichiri wondered if the enchanted snow had failed to erase his memories. They approached their young brother, reaching out to comfort him.

"Tasuki, are you all right?" Mitsukake enquired gently. Amber eyes filled with tears turned to meet his gaze--then slid away from him to his companion, looking at the seishi that he remembered trusting.

"I...I don't understand it, Chichiri," Tasuki murmured hesitantly. "I feel as if I've just lost something--something that meant more to me than my own _life_--but try as I might, I can't seem to remember what it was..." his voice trailed off, confused and despondent.

Chichiri reached out and placed a comforting hand on Tasuki's head, gently ruffling his hair. "Don't worry, Tasuki. It will come back to you some day...I promise."

****

**Part II. Moonlight**

Musical Selection: "Illumination" by Secret Garden from their CD "White Stones", copyright 1997 PolyGram Publishing, Norway.

*

The moon shone full and bright over the Imperial Palace of Konan, casting its silver glow upon the buildings and grounds below. A tall figure stood quietly at the edge of the woods that bordered the east lawn, admiring the way the moonlight transformed the plush lawn into a silvery sea, the grass moving in the light breeze in wave-like ripples. He watched figures move about the balconies and grounds of the palace, the lights of the lanterns illuminating them as if they were players upon a stage, unaware of their solitary audience who watched them with concern and love. He sighed, unable to shake the feeling of wistful sorrow that had remained with him since last night's heartbreaking events on Mount Taikyoku. A twig snapped behind him, and he looked up quickly, glad to see his closest friend step out of the darkness of the Imperial woods.

Chichiri stepped out into the moonlight, masked once more, once again concealing his features and his feelings from his brother warriors. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, feeling his brother's sorrow through his ki, sharing it in his own heart. He sighed, grateful for Mitsukake's presence, for someone to share the burden of the painful knowledge of what had happened in the past eleven days.

Mitsukake smiled at him. "I was wondering where you'd disappeared to this afternoon. I looked around, and suddenly you were gone."

Chichiri answered the gentle accusation. "I felt the need to get away for awhile." He looked up at Mitsukake as he removed his mask, exposing his vulnerability. "I kept feeling I was going to start babbling about all that had occurred, or maybe start screaming or crying... I just wanted it back so badly."

Mitsukake reached up to cover his friend's hand with his own, patting it comfortingly. He knew the "it" that Chichiri spoke of: the closeness, the togetherness they had won from such a hard-fought battle, from profound suffering and pain. He looked out across the lawn to the palace once again, suddenly noticing one of the players moving across the second-floor balcony. Chichiri's gaze fixed on the same sight.

Nuriko moved with the hesitance that the all of the younger seishi had shown since their memories were erased last night, as if unsure of where they were or what they were supposed to be doing. He walked up to the ornate doors that led to Hotohori's Imperial chambers and raised his hand to knock--but stopped. He covered his fist with his other hand, pulling them both into his chest, clasping them to his heart. Bowing his head sadly, he turned and began moving away from the doors.

Mitsukake nudged Chichiri as the doors swung open silently, and the silhouette of the emperor suddenly appeared, watching Nuriko walk away. Hotohori raised a hand as if he were about to call Nuriko back--but paused instead, lowering his hand without alerting the violet-haired seishi to his presence. He merely stood mute and invisible, watching, waiting...alone.

Further along the balcony, the small form of the youngest seishi exited his room. He held a bundle of scrolls in his arms, appearing to be both excited and mesmerized by his burden. As Nuriko approached him, Chiriko darted forward as if to share his excitement with his brother warrior before noticing Nuriko wiping tears from his eyes. The young seishi hesitated, then drew back into the doorway of his room, letting Nuriko pass by him undisturbed, keeping his distance from the pain of the elder seishi.

Mitsukake drew a deep breath. "Ten mornings ago, I would have given my right arm to return to where things had been the evening before! I would have given anything to get back to this point. But in the days that followed, we gained so much... We regained all that we had lost and so much more that now…now that we _are_ back to where we started, I can't help feeling that we've lost. It sounds stupid to yearn for those days that resulted from so much suffering and anguish, but I can't help feeling the loss," his voice trailed off, despondent.

Chichiri gripped his arm. "You needn't explain it to me; I feel exactly the same way. I can't help questioning Suzaku's decision, worrying that he and Taiitsukun have made a terrible mistake. They're not human, you know, and they don't understand human hearts as completely as they pretend to. They may have erased the conscious memories of our brothers and Miaka, but they can't control the subconscious feelings that are reverberating in all of us. As Taiitsukun herself has said, they cannot undo what has been done. And as I see this suffering..." Chichiri nodded at the slowly moving vignette comprised of Nuriko, Hotohori and Chiriko, "...I wonder how fair it is to leave them with their subconscious grief and yet leave them no recognition of where it comes from or how to deal with it."

He continued, sighing deeply. "More than this, I have a sense of foreboding about the changes that have occurred due to the events of last night. I spoke with Hotohori this morning, and he said that the ship that will carry us to Hokkan will be arriving tomorrow. He hopes to get it outfitted with everything we need within the next few days--but he won't be accompanying us on the search for the Shinzaho. He is yielding to his ministers' insistence that he remain in Konan, and I fear that this may be a tragic mistake. I don't like leaving him behind by himself, and I don't like breaking up our group. But I can hardly compel the emperor to obey _me_, and this is obviously what Suzaku wanted when he handed down his decision last night. I can only pray that this truly is for the best, and that we don't suffer for it in the end."

Mitsukake shook his head. Hoping to leave these depressing thoughts behind, he changed the subject. "So where have you been all this time? Don't tell me that you've stayed in the woods for all these hours."

Chichiri nodded. "As a matter of fact, that's exactly where I've been. There was something I needed to do." He withdrew his hand from his kesa, holding out his palm. In his hand lay a quantity of white stones, each the size of a fingertip. They were smooth and rounded, and their pristine surfaces caught the light of the moon, glimmering brightly with the same silver luminescence that beamed from the sky. Mitsukake caught his breath at their beauty.

"I've been setting these out in the woods for some time now, placing them in the ground as guidestones to help anyone lost in the woods find their way back to the palace. Just for my amusement, I've been experimenting with placing them in different patterns, trying to arrange them in some meaningful way. But I could never make up my mind as to the best pattern until tonight."

Chichiri's glance turned inward, growing misty with memory and emotion. "I was meditating upon all that had happened in these past days, on how we had all been there for one another...and I realized that _we_ were the guidestones in this time of terrible darkness. All of us, the Suzaku shichiseishi and our miko, were the white stones in the moonlight that brought each other home. We were the white stones that guided each other out of the deepest forest in the night. That was when I finally decided on the pattern."

Using his fingertip, he gently moved the eight stones balanced on the flat surface of his palm. He placed one stone near his fingers, then placed two stones slightly behind it to form a triangle.

"This is Miaka, flanked by the two men who love her, Tamahome and Tasuki."

He then placed three stones in a row behind the triangle, forming a yet larger triangle now composed of six stones. "And these are Nuriko, Hotohori, and Chiriko." He finished by placing two stones in a line behind the triangle. "And this is you and me, watching over them all." He smiled up at Mitsukake triumphantly.

Mitsukake stared at the glowing stones in wonder. "It's an arrow," he breathed. "An arrow pointing the way home. An arrow pointing the way to safety, to warmth--to love."

"Yes," the monk replied softly. "That's what we are to each other, wouldn't you agree? Guidestones pointing the way to love."

The two elder seishi stood mesmerized, staring at the white stones in Chichiri's palm. Mitsukake pictured the glowing arrows set in the path in the woods, dozens of arrows reflecting the moonlight, forever serving as silent, secret memorials of the love of the Suzaku shichiseishi and miko for one another.

They finally roused themselves from their dreamlike state.

"So how has he been doing today?" Chichiri asked softly. He didn't need to tell Mitsukake to whom he was referring.

Mitsukake smiled. "He got into three brawls with Tamahome and was punched into a wall twice by Nuriko. He even got _me_ riled up once!" He snorted at the memory. "I guess I was hovering too close, forgetting that he wasn't used to me keeping an eye on him anymore. Anyway, he took me aside and informed me--gently for him--that although he said he didn't like girls, it didn't mean that he liked guys, and would I kindly keep my eyes to myself!"

Chichiri let out a shout of laughter. Mitsukake shook his head.

"That little shit!" he growled in affectionate exasperation. "And he knows all about me and Shouka!"

Chichiri gasped with mirth. "That's our Tasuki, no da! Guaranteed to double your blood pressure in twenty words or less!"

Mitsukake sighed. "Yes, I'd almost say that he was back to normal...except for this."

He nodded at the figure that wandered along the edge of the ornamental pond that bordered the southeast side of the palace. Every so often, the figure would stoop, pick up a rock and throw it into the water, and stand watching the ripples in the moonlight.

"It's never been like him to brood before."

Chichiri turned to stare at the figure, all traces of laughter leaving his face. "His heart desperately seeks what it has lost," he murmured.

Mitsukake suddenly straightened, grasping Chichiri's arm. "His isn't the only one! Look there!" he pointed toward the southeast balcony.

The silhouette of their priestess suddenly appeared on the balcony, her loose, unbound hair blowing gently in the breeze as she approached the rail. She looked out toward the ornamental pond, her face turning toward the figure of her fifth seishi. Suddenly, as if he felt her gaze, Tasuki turned around and stared up at his priestess.

In that moment, the casual postures of their bodies transformed. Miaka leaned over the rail, her hair blowing towards Tasuki, as he tilted his chin up to meet her gaze. The muscles of their bodies moved, stretching towards each other with unconscious yearning--a yearning so strong that had they possessed wings, they would have flown into each other's arms.

The two elder seishi held their breaths in wonder at the sight, Mitsukake wondering if the strength of the subconscious yearning between the two would be enough to break the forgetfulness spell. But Chichiri saw it differently.

"Their minds cannot remember...but their bodies cannot forget," he breathed in awe.

That same spell seemed to take hold in Nuriko, turning him around to meet Hotohori's gaze. They, too, seemed to yearn towards one another, although neither took a single step towards the other.

At that moment, the silhouette of Tamahome appeared on the balcony beside Miaka. She turned towards him and away from her fifth seishi, her body now leaning towards her first love with all the tension and desire that had just been directed elsewhere. Tasuki stood watching the two for a moment longer, then turned back to the pond, picking up another stone to throw into the water. As if this broke the spell, Hotohori also turned away from Nuriko, looking in the opposite direction. Nuriko continued slowly on his way back towards his quarters, as Chiriko retreated further into his doorway.

"Do you think that we'll ever have it again? That unity--" Mitsukake's voice was choked with emotion, thick with longing. "That feeling of being one mind...one heart...one soul."

Chichiri looked up into the tear-filled eyes of the healer. He placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Yes, I do, my friend." He looked down towards the figure at the pond. "In the words of a very wise young man: I do believe, with all my heart and soul, that I will see that love again--if not in this life...then in the next."

The warrior-monk, the magician of Suzaku, lifted the handful of stones to his lips, breathing a spell over them. The white stones instantly crumbled into shards, glinting like diamonds in the moonlight. Murmuring another spell, Chichiri flung the shards into the air, a mystical wind catching them up into a swirling, dancing stream. The stream of stones glittered in the moonlight, darting and swirling like a miniature comet, spiraling over the magician and the healer before skimming across the lawn towards the other members of the Suzaku family.

The tiny comet danced and glittered before the eyes of the Suzaku seishi and their miko, filling them with a sense of wonder and enchantment. As the magical shards of the stones passed each person, tiny bits of stardust fell upon them, casting yet another spell. And for a moment--in that moment--they all felt it once more: that unity, that sense of oneness that had so recently cradled them in its embrace. For this one moment, they were once again one heart, one soul. Each member of the Suzaku family gasped as they felt the overwhelming love for each other and from each other, the realization that they would never truly be alone as long as they had one another.

And this one moment, outside of time, would sustain them in the dark days to come. Whatever tragedy, grief or horror awaited them, they would have this one moment to hold in their hearts, to give them strength when they thought all was lost, to keep them fighting when all hope was gone. This one gift, returned to them by the magician of Suzaku, was the gift they could never lose: the gift of one another's love.

Once more basking in this love, the eight faces of the Suzaku shichiseishi and their miko turned to follow the magical dance of the mystical white stones as they swirled higher into the air, the glimmering shards catching and reflecting the moonlight until they finally became lost among the glittering stars of the velvet night.

*******

_Fin_

_*******_

Glossary of Japanese terms:

Sunakake-babaa! - Tamahome's (and Taka's) panicked response to the sight of Taiitsukun's face. Babaa means "old hag" but I can't find a definition for "sunakake" - although the anime says "Lord of Hell" or something meaning "devil". But I have it on authority from my reviewers that it refers to a spirit like the sandman who would toss sand in people's eyes to make them sleep…but it must be one heck of an ugly sandman!

Author's note: (5-2-02) (Roku looks up from behind a big pile of crumpled Kleenex) Okay, I'll admit it: I cried myself sick writing this. I damn near shorted out my keyboard trying to write the Tasuki-Miaka farewell scene; hell, I re-enacted the opening scene of "Romancing the Stone," where Joan Wilder cries herself silly over the ending of her romance novel, only to discover that she's totally out of Kleenex and toilet paper, too. At least I didn't have to blow my nose on my grocery list, but I did have to keep getting up and running to the next room to get more Kleenex!

I could tell from the reviews of the previous chapters that I probably blind-sided most of you with this ending--and I'm sorry for the trauma. But I can only say what I've said from the beginning: this fic plays like some celestial movie that I've tapped into, so the movie plays, and the movie says! I feel that I'm only the humble scribe that brings it to you; I feel totally under the control of this story instead of the other way around. This ending is not the result of any outside pressure; it has existed from the very first chapter. Obviously, the story wanted to circle back to canon, back to the search for the Shinzaho.

First of all, I want to thank Aikido-chan for her beta-reading of this most important final chapter, and for her in-depth reviews of the other chapters. Oh, you haven't read her reviews? That's because she works with me, and I get her input in person! Yay!

On a more serious note, I want to thank each and every one of you, both readers and reviewers, for sticking with me through this long learning process. Yes, this is my first fic, and you can tell if you go back and read my early chapters. There's been significant growth in my writing since then!

So, speaking of growth, I really, REALLY need to thank all of you who reviewed. You all taught me so much, encouraged me, goaded me, and forced me to be a better writer! This goes for my regular reviewers as well as some of you "one shots" who would suddenly appear and give me a big thrill to realize that you were reading all along!

I'm going to mention a few of you by name because of your incredible and important influence on me. First of all, I am VERY grateful to Jades for her permission to use the central idea of her story as the launching point for "White Stones." Without her generosity, "White Stones" would either not exist at all, or exist in a far different format. Thank you again, Jades!

Next, I need to thank Kryssa: yes, Kris, we do seem to share this weird psychic/psychotic connection! And you always get exactly what I'm aiming for, a fact that I'm always grateful for. There are not enough words to thank you, so I hope you get how I feel!

And Purple Mouse, my personal PR assistant! Mouse-chan, I don't know what I ever did to deserve your support, but I am so grateful to you for taking a chance on the rough beginning of this fic, and then going out and _promoting_ it to so many others who may never have given it a chance. Thank you for your friendship, and for all the beta-reads! Someday you will succeed in teaching me the proper way to write repetitive sequences! I have faith!

And so on to Mouse-chan's "gang": Ryuen and Kaze-chan...wow! You guys have been SO great and fun to e-mail, too! Ryuen, thanks for the long and thoughtful reviews, and for your spirited defenses of my unconventional approaches to the FY story. Kaze-chan, thanks for all your notes and for being an influence on me for scenery and setting descriptions. Thank you, arigatou goziemasu, and so on and so forth. And Chaotic Serenity... Chao-chan, you're the best! Thanks for being a goad and a support at the same time. Whenever I get one of your reviews, I always feel like Tasuki after Nuriko punches him into a wall! I blush from the compliments and reel from the whips! Whoooo-hoooo! Thanks for the wild ride! Arashi, Bashou-chan, Bearit, Lynne, Adriana, Lina… your encouragement meant so much! I wish that I could mention more of you, but pretty soon, these author's notes are going to be longer than the dang story!!! So thanks to everybody else I forgot to mention!

Nowwww... what's next for me and for White Stones? Read on!.

First of all, we're not quite done with White Stones. That's right, I can't quite let go of it yet. I'm posting an epilogue to the series, my own fond farewell to my favorite couple. Then, I'm going to post some author's notes as a last epilogue, to explain my reasoning in creating some of the elements of this story, and how they tie into the canon anime series - Yes, they do, Chao-chan! - This is only for those of you who dare to peek into the mind of the author. I warn you: it's dark and squishy in there.

Is there a sequel to White Stones? In a word…Yes. Mostly because I have to save Botswana from Purple Mouse… Just kidding! Seriously, the "movie" of this sequel has been playing in my head longer than White Stones. I first conceived of the sequel's rough plot more than a year ago. The setting of the story will probably have to be designated as AU because although it incorporates the canon anime through OVA 2 (see, there's that word again - canon!) it will not incorporate Eikou Den (OVA 3). I have a problem with the EikouDen storyline, soooo--I'm going to ignore it!! La, la, la… When can you expect to begin seeing the first chapters of the sequel? Ummmm, probably not until this fall. I have a grant application to get out, PLUS two other FY fics which are starting up shortly, aaaand…an Inuyasha fic!

Sigh. These author notes are getting too long, so for those of you who are interested, I'll go into more detail about these future fics after the White Stones Epilogue.

Oh, and one other thing, just for fun: Chichiri and Mitsukake know the truth about what happened over those mysterious eleven days--but there is also one other person who knows. Can you guess who? The clues are all there!

Ja ne, everybody… and thanks again!

Last, but not least…

To my beloved "Little Tasuki", the newest sparkling star in the night sky,

Know that your aunt believes, with all her heart and soul, that she will hold you in her arms one day… If not in this life…then in the next.

Love forever,

Roku


	22. Epilogue Once, as my heart remembers

Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. I do not own them, and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

Musical Selection: "Fallen Embers" by Enya from the CD "A Day Without Rain", copyright 2000, Warner Music UK, Ltd.

*******

**EPILOGUE. Once, as my heart remembers... **(Tasuki, Miaka)

The Imperial palace stood dark and quiet, its corridors lit intermittently by the faint glow of oil lamps. A figure walked quietly through the darkness, pausing every so often to stare out across the courtyard and look up into the moonlit sky. His progress was slow and uncertain, as if he were unsure of where he was going or what he was doing. The flames of the lamps barely flickered at his gentle approach, their dim light reflecting faintly in the brilliant flames of his hair.

His amber eyes searched the sky, seeking the mystical moment that had flared briefly in his heart hours ago--that feeling of oneness with all his fellow seishi and miko. He scanned the skies again for some trace of the tiny, sparkling comet that had left in its wake feelings of comfort and peace and hope--but it was gone, vanished into the darkness, its magic as ephemeral as a dream. And he was lost again, restless, his heart dimly seeking, waiting, yearning…

He looked up, suddenly realizing that his slow progress had brought him nearly to her door--but why? There _was_ that moment earlier this evening, down by the pond, but he couldn't remember exactly what had happened, let alone analyze why. That strange yearning again, a yearning that seemed to be directed towards her, a yearning that she seemed to share--but that wasn't right, was it? Why would she yearn towards _him?_ She had Tamahome; hell, Tamahome was her whole world, as she had made abundantly clear time and time again. No, the yearning in her eyes was only his stupid mind playing tricks on him. It was only his own pointless dream.

****

She woke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. She reached out into the darkness, fumbling for her last book of matches, striking a precious match to light the lamp beside her bed. She glanced at her watch, noting that she had only been asleep for about an hour. So it hadn't been that long, then; not long since that moment in the moonlight, that moment she couldn't explain…

She walked to her bath chamber to splash cold water on her face and returned to her bed, sitting up against the pillows and pondering the last two days. She still felt traces of the melancholy that had gripped her ever since their return from Mount Taikyoku. The training for the Shinzaho mission must have been rigorous and stressful to have the effect of suppressing her normal optimism. Of course, Taiitsukun's warning to her to keep distance between herself and Tamahome did nothing to lift her spirits. Tamahome, however, had taken the news well ever since he realized the reason behind her rejection of his marriage proposal. He had assured her that he was willing to wait, and he was confident that he would make her "the happiest bride ever!" These words should have filled her with joy; they _did_ fill her with joy! So why this strange nagging feeling of regret tinged with grief?

What had Taiitsukun done to them during their session on Mount Taikyoku? All of the seishi seemed subdued, saddened after their return last night. She had seen tears standing in Nuriko's violet eyes today, while Hotohori and Chiriko had kept to themselves. Of them all, Tamahome had seemed the most normal, but she had caught him more than once staring off into the distance with a faraway look in his eyes. Chichiri and Mitsukake radiated quiet concern, although Chichiri had disappeared in the afternoon, not returning until long after nightfall.

And Tasuki… Suddenly she felt something inside her clench at the thought of her fifth seishi. He had participated in some horsing around with Tamahome and Nuriko, even provoking their ire a few times, but there seemed to be something half-hearted in his efforts. She was accustomed to his optimism and enthusiasm matching or outstripping hers, but that hadn't been the case today. Nuriko was right--when Tasuki grew quiet, everything around the Suzaku seishi seemed quiet.

****

Standing outside her chamber, he saw a light appear, shining in a thin line under her door. So she was awake, too. A strange urge gripped him: an urge to knock on her door, beg entry, sit beside her, and…cry. Sob out all his pain and confusion, weep buckets over his inexplicable sense of loss, storm and rail in her sympathetic presence over the unfairness of fate in doing…what?

"Yeah, Genrou," he breathed to himself. "Really build up her confidence in your ability to protect her. Yeah, you crying like a baby would really make her feel secure in your care! She'd be real happy to count you as one of her celestial warriors if you did that--dumbass!"

****

As if drawn by a mystical force, her eyes turned to the photograph that rested on her bedside table: the photo that had been mysteriously waiting for her upon her return last night. She looked at the picture of her seven seishi lying in a circle on the ground, each one apparently relaxed and happy in the grass. She must have taken this picture sometime over those forgotten eleven days, so in spite of their shared melancholia, she and her seishi must have had _some_ good times as they traveled back and forth between the palace and Mount Taikyoku. The photo was hard evidence of that fact. Why, then, did she feel regret and sorrow when she gazed at it, as if she were looking at some fast-fading happy dream, a dream that was slipping from her grasp?

Her eyes turned to those of her first seishi and true love: Tamahome, smiling a warm, loving smile at her. But her gaze kept shifting from his midnight hair to the bright, fiery hair beside him. Tasuki again. With that look in his eyes. Half-serious, half-smiling, his eyes locking with hers, seeming to promise...something.

She gasped as her dream rushed back into her mind, the dream that had awoken her just scant minutes ago. She closed her eyes as the images caught her in their grasp once again, images as disturbingly vivid and real as the room around her.

She felt strong arms surrounding her, cradling her in a grip both passionate and tender. She turned her face towards her lover, expecting to meet grey eyes, only to encounter the fiery gaze of amber eyes alight with desire. That desire ignited an answering conflagration of passion within her. In her dream, she was bold and uninhibited as she pushed him back, tasting the sweetness of his lips before moving down to kiss the slight hollow at the base of his throat. She nipped at him lightly, inhaling the fragrant sandalwood scent of his skin.

He moaned softly as she moved her hands lightly over the long, lean lines of his body, caressing him, exciting him, holding him strong and hard in her grasp. His eyes turned to meet hers, cloudy with passion and soft with love. Once again, she felt the warm satin of his skin beneath her fingertips, felt the pulse in his throat beat rapidly against her lips, felt herself shiver in delight as his long fingers gently stroked and caressed her in return. She looked up to see a flush spread across the bridge of his distinctive nose as he gasped and trembled in her embrace, his hands tangling in her thick cascade of hair. She drank in the intoxicating rush of power that filled her as he surrendered to her, feeling overwhelmed with tenderness as he gave himself to her…

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared once again at the photo in her hand, unaware of the look of wonder that had stolen over her now flushed features.

"Miaka no baka!" she whispered. "What on earth are you _dreaming_ about?"

How could she possibly know these things about him: the look in his eyes, the taste and scent and…_feel_ of him?

"Stop right there!!" she scolded herself. This wasn't her--and it wasn't him! He wasn't the type to surrender to a girl; if anything, she could picture him pushing _her_ back, seizing her lips as he pulled her body into his…

"_Stop_ this!" she hissed at herself, dropping the photo back onto the table. "I love Tamahome! _Tamahome_ is the one I desire!"

She grew angry with herself for her subconscious infidelity. Striding into her bathroom, she once again splashed cold water onto her face, trying to cool her flushed cheeks and slow her racing heart.

****

Suddenly, out of nowhere, his nose tickled, and he sneezed.

"Someone's thinkin' about me," he grumbled.

Maybe her? His heart beat faster with hope but subsided in the face of reason. "Nahhhh…get real, Genrou! Why the fuck would she spend a moment's thought on _you?"_

_****_

Miaka looked up as she re-entered her bedchamber, thinking that she heard a soft sneeze outside her door. Could it be him? But why? What would he be doing standing outside her door? Even if it _was_ him, did she really want to open that door? What would she do? Invite him in, beg him to stay, start crying over this inexplicable feeling of loss that haunted her?

He would hate that; he always scowled when he saw her crying, her useless tears reinforcing his contempt for girls. But maybe…maybe he would hold her, and she could lean her head against his chest, surreptitiously inhaling his scent, checking to see if he really did smell of sandalwood...

"What is _wrong_ with you?" she demanded of herself, shocked at her thoughts. She quickly got back into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.

****

He stood in front of her door for a moment longer. Lifting his hand to knock, he paused as a thought came to him. What if she wasn't alone? What if Tamahome was there with her? He nearly gasped at the pain that suddenly lanced through him, not understanding the intensity of his feelings.

"Yeah, Genrou," he sighed to himself once more. "What are ya gonna say to them? 'Sorry to interrupt, guys, but, uh, do ya wanna play cards or somethin'?' You're a fuckin' _genius_, Genrou."

Shaking his head, he turned and continued on his way back to his own chambers, his footsteps slow, almost reluctant as he left her behind.

****

She suddenly turned her face into her pillow and began weeping, feeling once more as if she had just lost something.

****

He slowly opened the door to his chamber, his heart quickening at the thought of what awaited him there. He both anticipated and dreaded what he was about to see--and there it was. Still there, still waiting silently for him, its blue button eyes seeming to mock him with its incongruous presence in his room. It had been there last night when he'd returned from Mount Taikyoku, his heart raw and aching from whatever trials that _babaa_ had put them through. He'd been fighting feelings of anguish and loss, and for some reason, the sight of Miaka's bear-doll in his room had been the last straw.

He had fallen to his knees before the strange object, not understanding what it was doing in his room but somehow overcome by its presence there. He pulled it close and inhaled the alien scent of its soft fur… and the floodgates had opened. He'd wept uncontrollably, the sobs racking his body, his breath coming in harsh gasps. He didn't understand it--he only knew that his heart was breaking, and he feared for his sanity, because his heart was _shattering_, and he didn't know why, he didn't know _why! _

All he could think was that he hadn't cried so hard since he was a child, a little boy of four or five, terrified when his sisters, laughing, had taken turns holding him under water for fun, forever instilling in him a fear of putting his head underwater--a fear of water that would keep him from learning how to swim. And the child had cried, not only because he was afraid that they might kill him out of carelessness, but because he finally understood that he would never be part of them. Their casual cruelty told him that he would never really belong with them, never be a part of _their_ family--that he would forever be alone.

For some reason, this doll brought back that feeling of loss, of being forced back into his solitary existence. At the same time, the bear had brought strange comfort to him: vague, unformed memories of someone caring for him, someone loving him. He hadn't understood it--he'd just clutched the bear to his chest as he cried, exhausting his tears until he heaved with dry sobs, sleep finally mercifully overtaking him in the midst of his unexplained grief.

Even tonight, the tears started in his eyes at the sight of the bear, but he didn't want to go through that again. So he averted his eyes as he walked past to his bath chamber, to splash water into his face and change into his sleep clothes. He closed the door to his bath chamber, deliberately placing a solid barrier between himself and the bear.

****

She finally regained control of herself, wiping her tears and pushing her hair out of her eyes. For the third time, she went to her bath chamber, splashing water into her face over and over until her agitation cooled, and she once again felt like herself. Her sanity returned, her breaths slowing until they were calm and steady. Finally, she remembered the role she had to play in this world, and most importantly, her all-consuming love for Tamahome. He was handsome, heroic, tender and loving--and he was her entire world.

She returned to her bedchamber, her steps strong and resolute. Reaching out to snuff the lamp, she caught sight of the photo which still lay on her bedside table. She picked it up, her eyes once more meeting the gaze of her fifth seishi--and she set her jaw.

"You're my friend," she informed him firmly. "Just a good friend--and that's all you'll ever be."

Satisfied with her behavior at last, she turned the photo over and tucked it against the back cover of her school textbook. She closed the book and placed it in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe, where it would remain until they returned with the Shinzaho and summoned Suzaku. Returning to the warmth of her bed, she blew out the lamp and pulled the covers to her chin, finally drifting off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

****

He emerged from his bath chamber, clad only in his sleep trousers, shaking the last droplets of water from his long bangs. He pulled on his sleep shirt...then stopped to look once more at the unexpected guest in his bed. Tapping his fingers against his chin, he frowned as he tried to figure out how Miaka's bear had gotten into his room. Perhaps he'd kidnapped it as a joke or something. Well, the joke would be on him if Tamahome ever found out that he'd been sleeping with the bear. In any case, they were getting ready to depart to seek the Shinzaho, and Miaka would probably want the bear back so that she could carry it around in her pack, as she had during their earlier travels together. He would have to return it to her--and it would be best if he just snuck it back into her room without her knowledge. That would be an easy task for him, giving him a chance to brush up on his bandit skills.

Tasuki reached out and lifted the bear to his face, once more inhaling the scent of alien material that was not cotton nor wool nor silk. That scent reminded him of Miaka and the otherwordly items she often carried with her. Suddenly, his heart contracted with the same inexplicable grief that had haunted him since their return from Mount Taikyoku. Fighting the tears rising in his eyes, he swallowed the lump in his throat. He snuffed out his lamp, still clutching the bear in one hand.

He climbed into bed, hesitating as he realized that the bear remained in his grip. Should he just toss it across the room, retrieving it in the morning to return to Miaka's chambers? He hesitated one moment more...then quickly pulled the bear into his chest, tucking its head under his chin.

"Just one last night," he whispered to himself. "It can't hurt...for just one last night."

He closed his eyes, wiping impatiently at the tears that escaped him, and finally drifted off into a quiet, dreamless sleep, the bear still resting against his heart.

Fin

*******

*******

Author's note: Oyasumi nasai, Gen-chan. Jinkei, mataauhimade. Sainara.

(1-7-04) Today marks my two-year anniversary as a fanfiction author, as well as the two-year anniversary of the debut of White Stones in the Moonlight. It's a bittersweet experience, posting this Epilogue for the second time. The sad part is having to leave this, my first-ever multichapter work of fiction, for good, as well as having had to eliminate the last two chapters, an in-depth analysis of White Stones as it relates to canon Fushigi Yuugi. This elimination was necessary due to policy against chapter-length author notes.

The sweet part, however, is seeing White Stones back on the main page after so long, and gaining a few new fans for this dated work. Thank you to all of my long-time supporters, and thank you to all of the new reviewers - I really appreciate your input!

Here's some information for the "newbies:" The stories I mentioned in the "old" author notes (included below) are all up and running. The sequel to White Stones is called "Hidden Paths on a Cloud-Cast Night," and promises to be even more exciting, complex and action-packed than its predecessor. The White Stones "prequel" featuring Chichiri's early brushes with black magic is entitled "Bridge Over the Abyss" and is also considered a predecessor to "Hidden Paths." The rollicking send-up of White Stones is called "Casting Stones," and it's a giddy, silly ride for those who have had enough of Roku-angst. :P

Finally, for those of you who want to read the two "lost" chapters--the Final Author's Notes and Ananlysis of White Stones--I hope to have them posted within the next two weeks on the following website:

Media Miner .org Featured Fanfics

The link will be posted under my Personal Profile at this site. Thank you once again for making the process of writing and publishing "White Stones in the Moonlight" one of the unforgettable experiences of my life.

Ja ne!

Roku

Old author's note from "the first time around":

(5-9-02) Sighhhhh… so hard to say good-bye. As I said last week, writing this fanfic and communicating with all of you has been one of the great experiences of my life. Thank you for all of your excessively kind and wonderfully lengthy reviews. But it's only a brief good-bye for now, since I plan to rejoin Tasuki and Co. very shortly, once for some giddy fun, and then for a more serious look at Chichiri's earlier years. I'm going to go into more detail about these upcoming fics, but first…

Congratulations to both Bashou-chan and Dimps-chan and Aikido-chan for nailing Chiriko as the one other person who knows the truth about the forgotten eleven days. No, he didn't escape the spell, but remember that he _did_ record all the events in his scrolls. However, he isn't very likely to tell the other seishi, understanding that he'll only cause them pain, not to mention screw up Suzaku's plan. Hopefully, he'll get the chance to talk it over with Chichiri, but they're going to be very busy with the Shinzaho quest, so…who knows? Of course, he _will_ be riding with Chichiri once they split up in Hokkan to find the Shinzaho, so he may get the chance then.

I also have to give credit to Kryssa for guessing Miaka's brother Keisuke, who is the current reader of The Universe of the Four Gods. I totally forgot about him, Kris! And when you think about the Enchantment chapter - Gaaackkkk! Maybe we'll say that he left for a bathroom break during that section… O.o;;; And Mikka, who guessed Tama-neko - yeah, he knows, too, I guess. But if he tries to tell anybody about the initial assault (you know, by doing charades, like when he was trying to let Tamahome know about Nakago's capture of Miaka in Hokkan), Mitsukake's most likely going to drag him off to be fixed!

Next time, I'm going to post some author notes as promised, just so that you understand that I didn't mean the last chapter as some kind of, to paraphrase Nuriko, mind-fuck of all my readers. Here's the thing, though - I'm going to post TWO author's notes instead of one, the first entry to be restricted because of its content. This first entry (I think that it will have the designation of Ch. 24) will be a frank discussion of the inspiration for this story, and as such, it will contain material suitable for only the mature and less-sensitive reader. I'm very serious about this, guys! This section will discuss a couple of NC-17-rated fanfics, plus some thoughts on the role of rape in the FY anime, particularly OVA 2. I will quote from certain scenes, so pleeeeeaassssse, if you think this may offend you, pleeeeaassse skip to the second author's notes (Ch. 25). And as for my under-15 readers, I highly recommend skipping this section! (Roku-chan glares, then sighs…and throws her hands up in the air!)

The second set of author notes will tie in aspects of White Stones to the canon anime, which was the whole intention of this storyline in the first place. For example, Chichiri's explosion of grief at Mitsukake's death, when the two had barely exchanged two words in the whole anime series. Didn't make sense to me at the time, soooo… I MADE it make sense. Stuff like that. PG-13 material.

Finally, the Future Fics section.

First thing up will not be FY-related - it's actually the first fic I ever wrote, being only one chapter in length (yeah, more than 6000 words - you guys know the length of my chapters!) It's an Inuyasha fic, written as a side story to Becky Tailweaver's marvelous Inuyasha epic "The White Dog." She gave me permission to use her characters and to post "Dandelion" (that's the title) as a side story to TWD. She is reallllly a very, VERY nice person, as well as a HUGE talent. So this fic will probably go up the week after next, to feed my junkie need for reviews as I prepare the new FY fics.

The next fic will be a send-up of White Stones in the Moonlight, making fun of plot-holes and pretensions in this story, as well as making fun of me and… perhaps YOU! It will involve the cast of FY trying to stage a production of White Stones in a major theatre, while interacting with a rowdy audience composed of reviewers and my own original creations, Mom and Dad. Actually, I'm _their_ original creation! Expect insanity and bad taste! Oh, and if you, as a reviewer, object to being mentioned in this manner, just drop me a line and I'll be sure to respect your wishes!

The other fic will be more difficult and complex. This is the story of Chichiri's earlier brushes with black magic, and also involves a crossover from Doctor Who. The great majority of you have no idea who The Doctor is, so I'll try to fill you in on this complex and fascinating character. The Doctor is half-human but his other half is from an alien species known as Time Lords. Time Lords are sort of historians of the universe and they frown on interference in historical events… but the Doctor has an insatiable need to meddle! I think you'll like his character - _if_ you liked Chichiri in Chapter 5, Exorcism, part II. The Doctor travels through space and time - he moves through alternate universes the way we move between shops in a mall. So The Universe of the Four Gods wouldn't make him blink at all. As for his character, he's quirky, clever, a real trickster who hides tremendous power under an innocent façade. After I had written Exorcism, I looked at Chichiri and Nuriko and said, "My God, that's the Doctor and Benny!" (his faithful female companion - no, not THAT way). So I thought, since the Doctor's such a big influence on the way I portray my Chichiri, why not have him be an _actual_ influence on Chichiri's character? Well, we'll just have to see how this story turns out… and it's necessary that I get this story well under way, because I REALLY need to flesh out my White Stones Chichiri, since he plays a huge role in…

The White Stones Sequel. No title yet. (Yet Another White Stones?… nahhhhhhhh) This coming fall. Takes place after OVA2 and accepts (nearly) everything from the search for the first Shinzaho through the end of OVA2 as canon. Chichiri, Tamahome, Miaka and… Tasuki. And maybe all the rest, too; I have to let it all percolate through my brain over the summer, but already, scene after scene from this story is starting to play through my head. I have to tell you guys--this story is getting REALLY big and REALLY complex. It may well make White Stones look like a little prologue by the time it's over. Sighhhhhh. I just really have to make you all work, don't I? It's my sadistic streak, I'm afraid.

Well, I'm pretty sure that THIS set of notes was longer than the damn epilogue. So I'll put an end to it, and just tell ya…

Till next time! Ja ne!

Roku


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